The story of how the two of us fell in love
by Hanatamago2204
Summary: After literally running into a crying Norwegian, the loud Danish man invites him for a drink. A friendship starts to bloom over mutual feelings of being misunderstood, until a secret is uncovered that should have stayed hidden...
1. 10-10-2015

_Bang!_

Insidethe house, Björn had probably jumped or winced at the sound. Serves him right, Preben thought. Tears were still burning in his eyes while he paced down the driveway, into the city. His destination was the local pub, where they served cheap beer that tasted strange, but for now, it was fine. It would be loud, it would smell like cigarettes, alcohol and sweaty bodies, but it was fine. The music would be horrible and the people would be grouchy, perhaps even someone would try to flirt with him, but that was fine. Even if he would be kicked out by the bartender, it would be fine. It didn't matter. The Dane wanted to drown away the fight that had shooed him out of the house he shared with his lover. He didn't care what he would be drinking, as long as it contained alcohol and didn't taste like horse piss, he didn't care. Whether it would be on the beach, in a forest, in someone's attic or underneath a bridge, it didn't matter. Who he would be with, who would be serving the drinks, what they would be lolling into his ears, it didn't matter. He wanted to get drunk, forget about his life, forget about the man that he called his lover.

With his mind still set on the fight that had happened and the emotions it had triggered inside of him, Preben walked through the streaks of water that were falling from the skies. He didn't mind them, they concealed the water that was falling from his eyes and it excused the redness that settled underneath his skin. With a sigh, he brushed away a strand of stubborn hair that had finally given in under the pressure of the water, sticking to his forehead and almost pocking into his left eye. Why did it always turn out like this? What had happened between him and Björn? They used to be so in love, so happy together. The Dane didn't even remember when the fights had started. Perhaps somewhere last year? It was probably when they started living together, last year September. That was 14 months ago, Preben realised in shock.

Because he was thinking about anything but paying attention to his surroundings, the tall Dane failed to notice the small man walking towards him, head low and just as wet as he was. And thus, to anyone observing the situation, it was not that strange to see the two blond males bump into each other, the smaller one tumbling onto the wet grey stones. Both of them were ripped out of their sorrows, Preben's eyes widening with shock when he noticed the other person sitting on the wet ground. For a brief moment, he stood there, taking in the sight, mouth agape. Then, he closed it again, only to open it within the blink of an eye, words spilling out as if someone had turned on the faucet.

"I am so terribly sorry; I didn't see you because I was lost in thoughts. It's also kind of dark outside, don't you think? I'm sorry, I know I'm a klutz, but this tops it all." He reached out his hand to the man whose bottom was uncomfortably resting on the hard sidewalk, pants getting wet. When the figure didn't respond, nor move, Preben squatted down, looking at the face that was hidden by the fringe of pale blond hair.

"Are you okay?", he inquired, voice soft, as not to startle the seemingly distressed person in front of him.

The man still didn't respond, eyes glued to nothing in particular, cheeks stained red. Glimmering stains covered them, indicating that he had been crying. Something seemed to make him snap out of his daydreams and he looked at the Dane in front of him, deep azure eyes widening in shock.

"I… Uh..." Confused, the male looked around, unable to recognise the neighbourhood he had walked into. The other let a small grin appear on his face, forgetting about his own sad situation for a while.  
"Do you have anywhere to be? I was heading to the bar. If ya want, I can buy you a drink as an apology, what do ya say? Name's Preben, by the way", he told the smaller one, who was still sitting on the cold stones. Accepting the once again offered hand, the man let Preben drag him back onto his feet, dusting off his wet clothes afterwards.

"Sindre", he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. He had been so caught up in his own troubles, his self-pity, that he couldn't remember how he had made it here. Where he had gone, when he had taken which turn. For now, he could stick with the other man who had started to talk about himself, telling him that he had just been in a fight with his lover.

' _Great'_ , Sindre thought. _'Another lovesick person with troubles.'_ He was drenched and freezing and wanted to get out of the rain as soon as possible, away from the memories that haunted him, away from the heart wrenching feeling that had taken over him as soon as he had left home. Home… He probably was never going to go back there now.

"So, what made you get out in this dreadful weather", Preben asked, tugging the Norwegian out of his thoughts. _'I could ask you the same question'_ , he thought, shivering in his coat and hiding his mouth behind the collar.

"My boyfriend broke up with me." There was no love in the words. Only venom that made Preben shiver. This was not someone you wanted to be very angry with you, he concluded from that, digging his fists into his pockets.

"Sucks."

"Yeah."

To be honest, it wasn't the break-up that had fazed the Norwegian male. He had seen the signs way before Heikki had even mentioned anything. One day, the Finn had left home for his new job, only to return hours later with a content blush on his face, eyes sparkling in a way Sindre had not seen in a long time. Their relationship had already cooled down after a mere four and a half months. Why they had stayed together for another two and a half, was something Sindre didn't want to think about. One, there was the house that had rented together. Like most things in their relationship, Heikki had rushed with that as well, knowing that his stoic lover would not be able to resist his cute smile and puffy cheeks. It had been very convenient though, he no longer had to share his house with junkies and alcoholics, who returned in the dead of night, tearing down things and starting fights. It was a lot more peaceful for them.

No, the reason that he was in such a state now, was because the cute Finn had fallen in love with someone who seemed so perfect, so caring and so… lovable. So much better than Sindre, so much more fitting than Sindre. It made the lithe man so insecure. Night after night he had tossed and turned the question in his mind before. What if he was not good enough for the small Finn? Of course, their relationship had been slightly frozen over already at that point. They rarely made love, kissed or even cuddled. Dinners were eaten separately, neither of them waited for the other. The only thing they shared, was their bed. Again and again, the older of the two had blamed himself. Again and again, he told himself to be more open, to flirt more, to initiate things and start the seduction, to cuddle and talk to his lover. But it was so difficult for him, he was so scared of rejection, scared of what the other would think. In the end, that was probably why Heikki had fallen in love with his co-worker.

The rest of their walk to the pub was in silence. Both men were focussed on their own thoughts and insecurities, playing scenes from that day in their minds. For Preben, it was nothing new to have a fall out with Björn. He couldn't remember how many times he had walked this same path in the past two months. Probably more often than he could count on his two hands. Maybe he should start tracking it? But then again, today was the tenth of October and he had been here 3 times already. Or was it four? It was depressing, to say the least.

Their fights started because of the weirdest things. Today, it had been because Preben had not put his phone on silent while they were making dinner. His boss had called him, asking whether he could take over Daan's shift that Wednesday, to which he said yes. Björn had been angry because of the phone call. It had disturbed him.

"You are always on that stupid phone. All the time, someone texts you, calls you. Never do I have you for myself", he grumbled when the Dane returned, immediately wrapping him in his strong arms. He was used to that behaviour from the Swede by now. It wasn't something he could help. For some reason, something that had happened in their past, Björn had become very possessive when it came to Preben.

In the beginning, it hadn't bothered him. He had been happy when the tall Swede became jealous and lavished him with kisses, demanding his attention. But after a few months, the possessiveness became more intense, up until Preben was not allowed to go where he wanted without telling the other about his plans. Björn held him more and more captive, almost figuratively chaining them together. Every time the Dane would visit his Dutch co-worker, he would be marked, bitten and roughly loved when he returned. The next morning, he would be sore and Björn would be very clingy. It was so not like them.

Preben was usually a very cheery person, always in for cuddles, seemingly needing them to function. He would always touch someone's shoulder, pat their back or straight up hug them when he was around them. Much to Daan's dismay, he had to say that. But whenever Björn wanted to be close, it made his hairs stand up. It was nothing like the tall Swede to do that, to even hang around people like Preben. The blond was closed off, sometimes a little intimidating and generally very bad with people. The Dane was too hyper to his liking, never wanting to stay in or stay in one place for longer than three hours. He was always moving, always in for some kind of mischief. Much like a child. Björn on the other hand, was looking for something romantic, someone to cuddle with at the fireplace, someone to dote on and spoil. But his lover preferred his own space, doing his own things. He always insisted he could do things himself. After their fights had started to become more frequent, they had arguments about that as well. It bothered the Dane that his Swedish sweetheart would hold the door open for him every time, refused to let him carry grocery bags and so on. If things had gone Björn's way, he would even answer every call Preben received.

He had sighed when the Swede had captured him in his arms after returning from the phone call, prying the large hands off his chest.

"Of course you have me for yourself, I just have my own life. There's a job I have to take care of, people that also need me. You're not the only person in this universe. You're not the centre of my world", Preben had said, his voice a little rougher than he had intended it to be. It had hurt the other. Bothered the other.

"So you don't care about me, then? Fine, go ahead. Go and hang out with Daan, be his boyfriend for all I care. You don't, so why should I?" It had not been fair towards the Dane, but right now, Björn didn't want to be fair, Preben could see that. He had tried to fix it. Gently taking his taller lover into his arms, kissing the cheeks that were turned towards him in an attempt to stop him from kissing the Swede's angry lips.

"I do care. I love you, how could I not care about you? They just needed someone to take care of someone else's shift and they asked me."

"Can't they ask someone else?" The pout had not suited the very tall and manly Swede and Preben had almost laughed at the sight. Almost. Instead, he had remained silent, not knowing what to say. Of course his boss could have asked someone else, there were other people who also worked at the swimming pool. But it was widely known that the Dane was one of the best coaches, not only because he managed to handle the loud and lively children very well.

"I don't want you to go. Tell them you can't go. That your mother fell sick." Preben had clenched his jaw when Björn had spoken. It was ridiculous. Not only because his mother had passed away three years ago, but also because they were both grown men and both had the right to work. Thus, the Dane had refused. And started a fight. Björn had continued telling and persuading him to cancel work, Preben had named argument after argument why he could not and did not want to do that. Eventually, they had started shouting. Nasty names and glares were thrown at each other. Later, Björn had thrown something, Preben did not remember what, and it had broken. Fuming with rage, he had punched the wall, drawing blood and leaving behind a red stain. Then, he had fled from the house, slamming the door shut, eventually bumping into Sindre, which had lead them to where they were now, inside a crowded and loud bar.

Both men had a beverage in front of them. Within a mere moment, they had chugged the golden liquid down, setting the glasses back onto the hard wood with a heavy thud, drawing the attention from the man in charge of giving them their drinks. The brunet raised an eyebrow, but walked over anyway, after adjusting his glasses.

"Would the two gentlemen fancy another drink", he asked, tossing the dishcloth onto his shoulder. The two on the barstools nodded, waiting impatiently for the beers to be set down in front of them.

"So", the Dane said after emptying the glass' content into his mouth in the blink of an eye. "Want to talk about what happened to you and your lover, or do you need a few more rounds for that. Sindre shrugged, looking up from his own beer. Preben took the silence as a sign to order another round, heaving his hand towards the bartender. The man only shook his head, grabbing another pair of tall beer glasses. The Norwegian decided to go with the flow, downing his beer in one go.

"You're not bad", the tall blond said, smacking the Norwegian on his back. There were only a few people that could drink very well, according to Preben. And by well, he meant that they could down a beer in less than four seconds. One of them was Preben himself. Other people were Gilbert, a loud and somewhat egocentric but very nice German and Daan, his Dutch colleague. Björn had also proven himself to be worthy of that title, but the Swede preferred not to drink that much, so they rarely went out together.

Again, Sindre shrugged, accepting the next beer from the barman.

"If you are planning on starting a fight later on, I advise you not to", he commented, pointing to the bouncer standing in the corner. Preben noticed that the bartender's fingernails were cut very neatly, almost like a girl's. Odd. He then let his eyes travel to the short blond, looking him over and waging his chances. The man didn't seem like much, but the cold look he gave the Dane told otherwise. The man would not be afraid to use a lot of force, Preben thought while carefully sipping his beer. Next to him, the Norwegian told the bartender that they had no intentions to start a fight, but that they would keep it in mind in case one of them did.

"Feeling like talking yet", the Dane asked after the prissy bartender had left again. With a sigh, the Norwegian turned to his companion, putting down the drink and rubbing his temples. Honestly, he didn't want to talk. He didn't want to explain what had been going on between him and Heikki. It was none of the other's business, whatever his name was. They had met barely three drinks ago and they only knew their names. Kind of. Sindre wasn't very good with names. Why would he spill his secrets, tell what bothered him? He had never told anyone his exact thoughts and he was not planning on doing it either.

So why did he end up talking to Preben after three more drinks? Why did he tell him everything, from the day he had met Heikki at a concert, their first date at the mall where they had bought matching socks, to the event from today, where the usually cheerful and smiling Finn had sat both of them down, nervous and slightly serious look on his face? Why did he sketch out how he had felt when his lover had told him that his romantic feelings had evolved into friendship, that he had met someone he wanted to try starting a relationship with? Why had he cried in the arms of a stranger, inhaling the pleasant smell of cologne and alcohol?

All those questions turned around in his head as he followed Preben to a nearby hotel, both not wishing to spend the night at their respective homes. The receptionist didn't question them but just handed the keys, wishing them a pleasant stay. Sindre mentally scoffed at that. With the amount of beer and akvavit they had consumed, they probably would be feeling horrible by the time they woke up. They rode the elevator in silence, both looking at a seemingly very interesting spot on the wall. When the bell sounded, announcing their arrival at the right floor, Sindre looked at the Dane, examining his features. He had freckles. They were not very prominent, just light spots, but they were still there, scattered over his nose and cheeks. His eyes were blue. Blue like the winter sky that Sindre loved so much. They didn't seem very happy right now, but the Norwegian was sure that on any other occasion, they would be full of joy.

Trailering his gaze lower, he noticed the little shadow of blond stubbles on the man's jaw, making him seem a little older than he probably was. Sindre couldn't know, he hadn't asked the other's age. His lips seemed soft, very plump. They were also a light pink, kind of like a peach. And then, there was his hair. It was blond, like the strands of hay that had covered the floor of the stables he used to roam when he was younger. But that wasn't what was special about it. It was styled in the wildest crest the man had ever seen. How many pots of gel and hair product would his new drinking buddy use on a daily basis? Let alone in a month?

Sindre was pulled out of his thoughts when Preben walked out of the elevator, heading for room number 26. He followed behind quickly, feeling the alcohol cloud his mind and view. They tumbled into the room, sexually harassing the wall in search for the light switch. When it finally was stroked by Preben's fingers, it took them a little while to get used to the brightness filling the room. When their tired eyes finally adjusted, the noticed that there was only one bed in the room. The Dane was the first comment on the problem at hand.

"Well… I guess I'll sleep on the couch, don't you think, honey?" He added a wink to the comment, trying to make it clear that it was a joke. The eye roll from his 'honey' told him that the other had understood.

"Yeah, your own fault. Shouldn't have eaten all the strawberries in the house", Sindre joked back, letting a small smile grace his lips.

They settled in quickly, putting the extra blanket and pillow on the sofa. While Sindre got undressed, he felt his insecurities take over again. He had never felt beautiful or handsome, so when he stripped of layer after layer, exposing his body and worrying about his weight, he felt tears well up in his eyes again. _'I am such a messed up and ugly person'_ , he thought while he climbed into the bed, careful not to stare at the other man in the room for too long. When he also had crawled under his blankets, the Norwegian turned off the light, whispering a 'Good night' into the darkness. The wish was returned and soon the heavy sighs of a sleeping person filled the room. When he was sure the other was really in the realm of dreams, the Norwegian let his demons loose again.

They whispered to him, grabbing him and dragging him into their realm. "You're worthless", they whispered. "Your body is ugly, your boyfriend never loved you. This guy on the sofa thinks you're a bother, you're fat, why are you even here? Why don't you just run, why do you even stay here? No one cares about you, just leave." The longer they whispered, the louder their voiced seemed to get, the better they became at convincing him of their right. Why was he here? They whispered more and more into his ears, driving him insane, pulling tears out of his tired eyes. He was exhausted. He didn't want to fight it anymore.

Hiding his face in the pillow, he let the sobs wash over him, wreck his body and let them make him shiver and shake. His breath was ragged, cheeks wet with tears. Knuckles were turning white from the pressure he added on them while clutching the sheets, searching for some kind of comfort. He was lost in his world, scared and unable to stop hyperventilating. The edge of his vision started to become blurry, dark. Starts were dancing in front of him and his body started to ache in need of more oxygen. He was scared, so very scared. Lost in his sorrow, he didn't notice the other stirring awake, walking over and climbing into the bed. Only when he felt something warm pressed against his bare back, arms sneak around him, did Sindre realise Preben had woken up.

"Shh", he soothed, gently caressing the other's hair, gripping the hands that were almost tearing the sheets apart and squeezing them gently. "Shh, it's okay. Breathe in, and out…. Breathe in… And out… That's it, you're doing fine. In… and out…" He continued whispering into Sindre's ear and holding him close until he calmed down. Even when his sobs had stopped and his breathing was normal again, the Dane didn't leave. He just pressed a soft kiss to his sweaty hair and lulled him to sleep, still whispering to Sindre when to breathe in and out. They stayed like that until the morning came.

* * *

I just wanted to give you all a heads up, this is not going to be a DenSu/NorFin fanfiction. You will see later why.

~Hana


	2. 11-10-2015

The moment Sindre opened his eyes, he was greeted by a killer headache and a nausea that made pregnant women's morning sickness look pathetic. He was feeling horrible. Surrounded by unfamiliar ceilings and walls, a floor decorated with a strange rug, the man was unsure how he had ended up here. When he turned around in his bed, he noticed another man lying next to him, no shirt on and a slight smile on his face. Had he…? Well, whatever may have happened, it would come back to him later, perhaps while he was showering. Maybe his pain and sickness would disappear with the water as well.

Determined to get to the bathroom and get himself clean again, Sindre stood up, feeling the leftover alcohol in his legs. They seemed to be made out of pudding. Somehow, he made it to the door on the other side of the room. Behind it, he found white tiles on the floor and walls, a toilet, which he gifted the remains of alcohol and yesterday's food, and a shower. It was a simple bathroom, but it would suffice. Turning on the faucet and letting the water dribble down onto his tired body, he didn't care that it was cold. Right now, he needed something to wake him up, to make that headache go away. Slowly, the water turned warmer and Sindre relaxed underneath it, letting it wash away the foul taste of gall in his mouth.

He didn't know how long he had been standing under the waterfall that fell from the showerhead. Or how long it had taken him to wash his body with soap, to get his hair dry after he had stepped out of the shower. It probably had been quite long, judging by the many, many wrinkles the water had created on his skin. He looked like a grandpa. However, when Sindre emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, hair still slightly damp, he noticed that the other occupant was still asleep, a little drop of drool hanging from his open mouth. It looked somewhat adorable. Shrugging, the Norwegian decided to not wake him up. The man probably would feel just as horrible. They had been out drinking yesterday, he remembered. And god, did they drink a lot. Each of them must have finished a bottle of akvavit each, as well as several beers. It was a miracle that his stomach had not decided on emptying itself until this morning…

Grabbing his clothes and putting them on, the Norwegian thought back on yesterday. It had been a surprise when the other had offered him to go out for a drink. Not only because it was a strange way to apologise, -he could have just said "I'm sorry"?- but also because he had not expected the other to actually stick with him the whole night. Honestly, Sindre did not enjoy human contact that much. Not because he didn't like humans. But more because he was very, very insecure. He would get nervous around people and forget what he could say. He thought he wasn't interesting. His profession was nothing interesting to talk about. He worked for the government and was specialised in US-Norwegian affairs. He would be the one that arranged meetings between the two governments. Nothing interesting ever happened. Things that were interesting were supposed to be held secret, so he couldn't really talk about his job. Sindre didn't have a lot of hobbies, nor did he know a lot of people he could talk about. Favourite movies were fairy tale based, so that was also out of the question. His music taste was questionable, he thought, so he never even started talking about that. Yes, he was a strange and boring person…

Yet, that Danish man, -Preben, was it?- had stayed with him all night, drinking with him and just talking. From time to time, they had laughed about something stupid the man had done, or Preben had encouraged him to tell something about himself. After a few beers, he even had spilled his secrets regarding his former relationship with the Finnish man that had broken up with him. Perhaps he even had mentioned his brother to the Dane. Who knew? The night had been pleasant and a nice change of pace for Sindre. It had been nice to have someone near you who just talked and listened, without looking like they had trouble finding a topic to talk about. Since the other didn't know him, he couldn't judge him and Sindre had felt strangely safe with him. It was only once in a blue moon that he felt like he could just be himself with someone. Most people seemed dangerous to him.

Having finished putting on his clothes and gathering his few belongings, Sindre decided that it would not be a bad idea to do this kind of thing again sometime. The drinking, that is. Not the part where he was drunk and sobbing. He looked around for a paper and a pen, finding the things in one of the drawers of the nightstand, along with a bible. It was something that he always had found curious, the fact that there were bibles in the hotel rooms. Scribbling down a quick message, as well as his number, Sindre decided to not return to Heikki's and his apartment. Instead, he called his younger brother Eiríkur and crash at his place for a while. That was another person he felt safe with. They had a strange relationship. They barely needed words to talk, they just knew what the other was thinking or feeling. Which was exactly what he needed right now.

After he had left the hotel, the Norwegian decided to stop by a little coffee shop and look at the people passing by, noting how grey everything seemed to look. Most people walked by with their heads bowed, staring at their feet as they rapidly moved along the busy streets, on their way to goals unknown to the small man with his coffee in front of him. Some of the people on the streets wore colourful clothes and they stood out like a light in the darkness, though most of them wore boring colours that seemed to blend into a strange pulp of nothingness. With a sigh, Sindre wrapped his hands around his mug, feeling the warmth prickle in his veins as he noticed rain starting to pour down again. It was truly autumn now…

Meanwhile, Preben had woken up, just as sick and tired as Sindre had been. It took him a while before he remembered what had happened last night and how he had ended up in a hotel room, in a bed without his clothes on and a spot next to him that showed that someone had slept there, but was now cold. After getting out of the bed and grabbing his clothes, the Dane noticed the little note that was left on the table that stood in the room and he frowned.

 _Hey Sleeping Beauty,_

 _Thank you for yesterday night, I really needed that. If you feel like drinking and ranting again, call me or text me._

 _Sindre_

The man smiled a little to himself after reading the note, grabbing his cell phone and typing in the number to his contact list. It surely would come in handy some time, he decided. After checking out, he pondered on whether or not to go home, only to find his feet automatically carrying him to the small house he and Björn had rented together.

It was nothing spectacular. It had a little garden, a kitchen, living room and a little study in which Björn kept his books he liked and Preben would prepare his lessons there. Upstairs, a small bathroom and two bedrooms, one of them unused safe for the times they had a guest staying over. The house also had an attic, but it was so small that no one could stand up straight there and it was filled with dust-covered cardboard boxes with personal items they had yet to unpack. Nothing spectacular, but it was their house.

They had painted it together, hung up curtains and build the furniture together. More than once had they ended up in a little argument or a laughing fit. Sometimes they made out and ended up having sex on the floor or against the wall. One time they had done it against the door to the garden, which was mostly made out of glass. It had been such a thrill for Preben, doing something like that in such a place, where his neighbours could see if they'd look out of their windows…

Back then, their relationship had still been loving.

The hallway and living room were vacant, safe for the little traces of the occupants. A pair of shoes carelessly placed on the floor, an abandoned jumper, a half emptied mug of coffee… In the kitchen, Preben found the newspaper lying on the table, opened and abandoned after being read for a little. It seemed that his usual composed lover had been restless. Instead of searching for the other, the Dane walked over to the coffee machine to pour himself a decent cup, with two sugar cubes. Yes, perhaps a little immature, but he just loved the taste of sugar mingling with the bitterness of the coffee. The familiar scent filled the room and woke him up slightly. It felt like he was at home.

While leaning against the kitchen counter, Preben recalled the night before. How much he had enjoyed talking to someone who seemed somewhat interested in him, who just let him rant and complain in exchange for someone to do the same for him. Both Sindre and he had talked about their lovers, the problems they encountered and that one annoying co-worker that everyone seemed to like for some strange reason. They weren't even that funny!

After a few more shots, they had talked about more private things, like the fights Björn and he had whenever things went wrong. And how much Preben hated those days. How guilty he felt for changing his lover so much. Sindre had spoken about his younger brother. About how much he loved the teen, even though Eiríkur seemed to just think of him as a burden he had to carry. Perhaps the Norwegian had gone there…

His cup empty and body feeling dirty after a night in a sweaty warm bar, the Dane decided that it was time to take a shower. He stripped off his clothes and tossed them on the ground carelessly, he could pick them up later. Until now, his partner had not shown himself to him. He probably had already left for work. Preben had not checked the time since yesterday.

Water clashed down onto his strained shoulders, tired from holding the distressed man through the night. His shampoo smelled of lemon and something musky, a very fresh scent all together. Right when he had started to rub it into his blond strands, spacing out while massaging his scalp, he felt two strong arms snake around him and a broad chest press against his back. Drops of water were kissed away from his shoulders, hands caressing his chest, roaming his skin.

Preben continued his shower, pretending not to feel influenced by the feather light, loving touches that Björn gave him. Not even when the Swede's large hands joined his own in the mess of blond tangles on his head, rinsing out the soap and ministering the skin underneath. A small moan escaped Preben's lips while he leaned into the touch, his hips now pressing against his lover as well. He let his head rest against Björn's shoulder and he felt warm lips press against his neck, nibbling gently in between kisses.

"Welcome back", the Swede breathed, hands moving down Preben's sides, coming to a halt on his hips. He pulled them against his firmer, letting the hardness between his legs push up against his lover. He dug his nails into the skin as his touches turned harsher, nibs turned to bites, caresses to scratches. It had been their routine for months and months. Both men liked it rough, demanding. The push and pull, dancing around each other and trying to break away, only to be turned back by the other, was something that got both of them hot and bothered.

This time was no different. Preben turned around, but refused to kiss the other, instead reaching for the bottle of body wash and letting his hands caress his skin, cleaning it. Björn watched with hungry eyes, his cock stirring and twitching while his eyes followed the slow movements of Preben's hands. They halted near the Dane's own erection and he stepped back, letting the water wash away the little bubbles and the foam. Feeling naughty, he brushed his hands over his dick, letting a sigh drop from his mouth. He kept his eyes closed as he let his fingertips grace his chest, stomach and neck, mouth slightly agape.

The Swede felt himself turning more and more bothered by the sight of his lover clearly enjoying his own touches and he bit his lip, trying to contain himself. When the other let his hands stop at his nipples again, pinching them and moaning lowly, the taller man gave up and moved forward, gripping the Dane's rear and squeezing it, pressing their erections together while his bare teeth attacked the already marked neck once more. More dents followed on the skin and Preben gripped Björn's shoulders, dragging his nails up and down, leaving red streaks.

Their mouths clashed hungrily, groans and sighs spilling from them as they let their tongues do the talking, tangling and caressing hotly. Björn had reached between their legs and had begun pumping their erections together, hands and cocks slick from the water. Their bodies were pressed flush against each other and Preben was panting deliciously into his ear. When the Swede bit down on his lover's neck again, he felt a sharp pain on his shoulder where the other had thrusted his nails into his skin, a gasp ringing in his ears.

"Fuck-", the smaller one moaned, pressing against Björn's broad chest, trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, the other let him go, reaching behind him to one of the bottles that they kept in a small rack on the wall. Some time ago, Björn had snuck in a bottle of lube, in case a situation like the current one would appear. He was soon surprised by his lover's hands roaming his body, squeezing his arse and pumping his cock.

"Hungry, aren't we", he mumbled, turning around to meet Preben's lust filled eyes. When the Dane spotted the familiar bottle, he let out a breathy moan while aiming for the Swede's lips. He bit down on the lower one when he felt his lover's slick finger pressing against his entrance. Without any hesitation or a lot of concern, the digit slid inside, filling him. It wasn't nearly enough and Preben whined, pushing back. With a grunt, Björn added another and spread them, gently getting the muscles to get accustomed to the width that they would soon have to endure. His other hand was gently caressing and sometimes pumping the other's erection, making him spill a heap of hot, delicious sounds.

Growing impatient and _very_ aroused, Björn suddenly turned the other over, pressing him to the tiles on the wall. He lined his cock up against the now loosened entrance, left hand gripping Preben's hip.

"Bjö- Ah!", the Dane moaned when he felt the familiar length push into him, taking more and more of him as he was pressed against the cold, wet tiles. It was a strong contrast compared to the hot, stiff cock filling him and his lover's body against his own. He loved it.

Soon, the two had set a steady pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing from the walls. Preben was for once silent, his cocky mouth too occupied with letting out wonderful moans, loud growls and other wonderful sounds that made Björn want to pound into him even harder. He felt his climax draw nearer and he gripped onto the hips on front of him, his teeth once again sinking into the flesh of Preben's smooth neck. His lover moaned so filthily that Björn could only reward him by paying attention to his neglected erection, stroking it in synch with his thrusts.

"Ah- ah- mhh- Björn I'm… coming!"

He felt the other tighten around him while hot, sticky fluid spreading over his hand and probably also hitting the wall. It was too hot, too tight and too delicious inside of Preben and Björn let himself go as well, filling his lover with his seed. Their legs were shaking and their hearts pounding as they held themselves up against the wall with their hands, lips meeting in a soft kiss.

* * *

The doorbell barely reached his ears through his loud music. The guitars were screaming and the drums pounded against his chest. Eiríkur truly only loved music when it was loud and the floor was shaking under his feet. That was also the reason his dorm mates did not enjoy staying at home during the day. With a sigh, Sindre realised that his younger brother would not open the door for him and the Norwegian went on a search for the spare key he kept somewhere in his bag. A few minutes later, he finally managed to stick it into the lock and twisting, letting the loud music out into the hallway.

Upon more feeling than hearing the door close, Eiríkur whirled around, eyes meeting his brother's tired orbs, noticing the weekend bag and the horrid appearance immediately.

"Sindre?!"

* * *

I'm sorry for the longer wait, I had started on it but just didn't continue... For all of you who don't like DenSu, I promise it will not be that prominent in the next chapters. This is not a DenSu story, and they can't stay together, in case you couldn't tell by their "relationship". It's not very good.

Please tell me what you think of it, even if you don't like it. I want to be able to learn from my stories.

~Hana


	3. 11-10-2015 - 12-10-2015

After Eiríkur had turned off his music and sat his brother down with a cup of coffee, he ordered the other to explain what had happened.

"You look like a mess! Why are you here and not with Heikki?" His brother visibly winced at the name.

"We broke up", Sindre mumbled, hiding his face behind his mug. He felt really uncomfortable at this point and his hand clutched the ceramic, knuckles turning white.

"Why?"

"He fell in love with someone else." Sindre's voice was bitter. He didn't look at Eiríkur when he spoke.

"Oh."

They fell silent after that, Sindre sipping his beverage and biting his lips from time to time. He seemed lost in thoughts, until the younger one spoke again.

"Do you want me to get your clothes?" Shrugging, he set down his mug, still grabbing onto it firmly. He needed to be alone, away from everyone. He felt so rushed, anything but his usual calm mind. As if a storm was wrecking his mind, filling it with thoughts and whispers. Without a word, he saw his brother getting up and grabbing his keys, heading out of the room. When the door slammed shut, Sindre could finally relax a little.

It didn't last long, the peace and quiet. He didn't know how it happened. He just felt his eyes water, his stomach clench. His bottom lip trembled and he wanted to hide, wanted to cry. So he did. The break-up had left him feeling so lost, so broken. So alone. Like he was not good enough for the other, like he had not given Heikki enough love. He fished his phone and headphones from the weekend bag, plugging the headphones into his phone and ears. Then, he turned on his music and let it swallow him.

The song started out gently, the singer asking a question to no one in general.

 _If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anybody care?_

 _If my time was up I'd wanna know, you were happy I was there._

 _If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anyone lose sleep?_

 _If I wasn't hard and hollow, then maybe you would miss me…_

He moved his lips along to the lyrics, mouthing the words as tears streamed down his face. It really voiced how he felt, what was going on inside of his brain. No one cared deeply about him, he thought as he laid down onto the sofa.

"What if I just pulled myself together, would it matter at all? What if I just tried not to remember, would it matter at all?", he whispered along with the song, shaking with sobs. He didn't want to feel this way. He didn't want to cry his eyes out over someone he had not loved to death. It was not worth it, Preben had told him the night before in between their 6th and 7th beer. Yet here he was, clutching his sides in an attempt to hugging himself, earphones plugged in and crying in self-pity over a guy that had fallen out of love. Sindre felt cold and yet warm at the same time. His breathing was ragged and on the verge of hyperventilating. His nails were digging into his skin as he let the sobs wreck him, shake him.

He really was a mess. He had to do something about it. But he didn't want to bother anyone with his problems. Especially not Eiríkur. He was supposed to be the stronger, older brother that he could lean on if necessary, not someone who needed to be held while he cried his eyes out over his first love.

The song changed and he fell deeper into the darkness in his mind, burying his face into the sofa as he tried his best to cry silently, breathing irregularly and flexing and relaxing his muscles as he did. Shivers ran down his spine, his eyes just kept overflowing. His body felt numb, frozen, unable to move. He screwed his eyes shut and arched back, letting his head rest against the arm rest of the sofa, all muscles flexed. He wanted to run away, scream and yell. He needed to move, needed to get his pent up frustrations out. But he didn't. He just stayed on the couch, flexing all of his muscles and letting the tears stream down as his breath hitched again and again.

Eventually, he fell tired and still. All of his energy suddenly seemed drained, as if someone had pulled a plug somewhere on his body and let all of it flow out. He closed his eyes again, tears no longer escaping from them. Shivering, he got up and stole Eiríkur's blanket. Then, he proceeded to wrap himself up in it, curling up on the sofa again. That was how his brother found him half an hour later.

* * *

Picking up Sindre's clothes from his old home was easier than he had expected. Heikki opened the door for him and let him enter without asking anything. The small Finn had red eyes and an overall sad demeanour as he led the younger male to his bedroom.

"His clothes are in the right closet. If you need anything else… Just… I'll be in the study." With that, he left Eiríkur alone. It was obvious that his brother's ex was also out of it, feeling horrible about what had happened. But that still didn't make Eiríkur feel better about the situation. Fact was that his brother had a broken heart and was a horrible mess, which had been caused by Heikki. So, naturally, he felt anger towards the usually cheerful man.

Wordless, he started to fold the clothes into the suitcase the Finn had shown him after they had walked into the room. Trousers, jumpers, button-up's and more. He wondered what his brother would have to wear for work, so he decided to throw in the dress shoes and the dress pants as well, just to make sure. Underwear and sock followed, put into the case by a now blushing teen. He had never seen his brother's boxers and they were very…

After making sure he had enough clothes to last his brother a few days, perhaps even around two weeks if he washed them, Eiríkur closed the suitcase and went downstairs. Was there anything in this house his brother might need? Looking around, he concluded that the only relevant thing for the Norwegian would be his books and paperwork. Heikki was very helpful when he tried to find the many, many documents and requests. Sindre had been smart enough to bring his work laptop along when he left the house. With everything settled and packed, the teen got out of the house again and returned to his dorm, hoping he would find his brother to be okay.

The door opened again and he was met with silence. Not that he was not used to that; when he came home from school there usually was no music or anything on. But he had expected Sindre to be walking around, perhaps making coffee or working. So, it was a surprise when he found him huddled in his blanket, hiding from the world like a scared animal.

"I'm back", Eiríkur said softly, before dropping the bags and suitcase in the room. The pile of blanket and human did not move. A little torn between wanting to walk over and helping the man or ignoring it, the teen stood in the middle of the room for a while. With a sigh, he decided that he first needed coffee before he would try at talking to Sindre.

"Want some too?", he asked from the kitchen, grabbing a second mug, just in case. Some muffled sounds came from his brother's hiding place, sounding somewhat positive. The teen shrugged and poured some of the dark liquid into the second mug as well. Once done, he set down the pink one reading "Black was sold out" onto the table, before he made himself comfortable on his bed, leaning against the headboard while watching the cocoon slowly open.

Sindre looked very tired and sad, hair poking out to every direction possible, eyes red and poofy. His lips were chapped from all the biting and nibbling he had done while he had tried to fight the sobs and his cheeks and nose were red. He looked like a drunk cartoon character, Eiríkur thought.

They sat in silence, drinking their beverages and lost in thought. It would have been nice, had Sindre not looked so distressed. It really caused the teen a lot of heartache to see his brother this way. He remembered him being his shoulder to cry on, his voice of reason when they were both younger. That must have been six years ago. Time sure flies.

When they were younger, they did almost everything together. They'd spend day after day in the garden, reading together and silently talking about everything and nothing, discussing the stories they had read. Of course, they both went out to meet their own friends and do things the other did not like, but most of the time, they were together. Until Sindre had moved to study in another town. Slowly, they had grown apart, until his brother moved back and started working for the embassy. But even then, they could not see each other often anymore. Heikki had come into Sindre's life. Work was asking a lot from the older brother and Eiríkur had his own things to worry about. Sometimes he wished he could go back to those times when he had been younger.

In the end, Eiríkur did not ask his brother any more details about what had happened to him and Heikki, or about when he had been gone to retrieve his clothes. He just took care of the older one, bringing him food and a cup of coffee or tea, making the couch ready for the guest. He was relieved that he had insisted on buying one that could be turned into a bed.

Not once did he ask why Sindre cried that night. He did not get up to comfort him, figuring the other just needed some time alone. They did not speak about it at breakfast, nor when Eiríkur left for classes that morning. He wondered whether his brother would go to work, but he did not mention it. He would notice soon enough after he'd come home.

* * *

As soon as his feet touched the floor the next morning, Preben winced at the pain in his lower back. They had been too rough yesterday after he came home. It was strange, how their relationship worked out these days. During breakfast, they did not speak, both of them busy with themselves. Björn was texting someone on his phone, eyes smiling from time to time while his face stayed in his familiar scowl. Preben had decided to work on his next lesson for the adult swimming team. His fingers were hurriedly flying over the keys on the keyboard, filling the kitchen with the rhythmical tipping sound.

Lately, the only time they spoke to each other was when something was not right or when they were fighting. Whether it was about who was supposed to take out the trash, about the channel on the television or about Preben's need to go out every week. They only yelled at each other and called each other harsh words. But the annoying part was, that when Preben would come home after running away from the fight, they would always have mind-blowing sex and cuddle for the rest of the day or night, giving each other sweet kisses and whisper loving words. Perhaps even go for a second, more gentle round. And that was the part that kept him hooked.

Preben was a man who loved affection. Whether it was a hug, a friendly pat to the back or a kiss. Every type of physical contact was like fuel to him. He expressed his feelings that way and he couldn't live without it. That was the only reason he still stayed with Björn. Those hours after their storm had died and they laid together, kissing and caressing. Those were the times he truly felt that the other still loved him and didn't want him to leave. Thus, he didn't.

After finishing his meal, he cleaned their dishes, vacuumed the house and decided to take out the rubbish on his own accord, much to Björn's hidden delight. The Swede left for work soon after that, leaving the other in their empty house.

Unsure about what to do with his time until his shift would start, he decided to send the man he had met at the bar two days ago a text.

 _Hey, I hope you managed to get home safe yesterday morning. The night before, you seemed quite down, probably because of your situation. Let me know if you need help, I'll be glad to._

 _Preben_

Stuffing his phone in his pocket, he decided that he could walk to work, since he really could not do anything else. Perhaps it would help him take his mind off things, like how nice it had felt to hold Sindre that night. He had felt so strong, protecting and comforting the smaller male. Much different from how he and Björn went along. When one of them was having a rough time, they would leave them alone, giving each other some space.

Maybe that worked for Björn, but Preben sure as hell did not enjoy crying on his own in the bathroom. He wanted someone there to hug him and reassure him, like he had done with Sindre in the hotel room. But a man could not have everything in his life, he thought as he put on his shoes and coat and headed out the door. Perhaps one day Björn would realise what his lover needed...

* * *

A little shorter than usual... Sorry for that. I'm going to write a few oneshots the next few days, so if you're interested in that, stay tuned.

The DenNor will come, I promise. Please be patient with me. Also, I'm a little worried that you people don't enjoy the story, since barely anyone is leaving reviews. Should I give up on this story?

~Hana


	4. 12-10-2015 - 15-10-2015

Miraculously, Sindre managed to drag himself out of bed on Monday morning. His clothes were still in the suitcase, which his brother had left in the living room. Eiríkur had apparently left for classes already, leaving a little note saying there was breakfast in the fridge. It amazed the older one that he had not been woken up by his younger brother.

After breakfast and a quick splash of water to his face to wake himself up, Sindre hoisted his exhausted body into a suit, before grabbing the necessary things for his work. Packed up with documents, his laptop, a lunch for later that day and his phone, as well as his wallet and the spare key his brother had given him, he left the dorms, heading for the train station.

The ride to his work was boring. He had forgotten to bring his headphones, so listening to music was not an option. Talking to other people on the train wasn't either, thus he decided to stare out of the window and look at the city drifting by. Children walking on the sidewalk, mothers hurrying behind them with bags filled with groceries, men in suits or dress up shirts passing by. Cars snaking around and making their way to their owner's destinations. It was a dull life he lived and nothing seemed to be able to brighten it.

His work day started off just as any other work day. He would meet his boss, talk about the next meeting they would be hosting, the looked at the agenda and the documents that needed to be spread for the meeting. Sindre would call clients and people who asked for information about the country. He would sign documents and requests, sometimes make small talk with the girl working behind the reception's desk. There was nothing interesting in his dull job. Always the same paper, filled with letters that requested his attention, always the same people walking in to discuss things with him. Only now did he notice how much suffocated him and how much he wanted to get away.

At 10:37, his cell phone chimed for his attention and Sindre frowned. Who could be texting him at this hour? Everyone important to him knew he was not allowed to answer his phone during office hours. Curiosity spiked in his body and he became giddy with anticipation, eager to finally have his lunch break in which he was allowed to read the message. Time seemed to be thicker than tar today.

Finally, finally, lunch break announced itself. People were floating out of their offices, some more eager than others. Most of them were chatting with their co-workers, talking about their weekends, husbands and wives, from time to time about their children or friends. Sindre didn't care. It seemed as if his phone was burning in his pocket while he ventured out of the stiff, grey building that had anonymity cladded all over it. Perhaps something was wrong with Eiríkur? Had he gotten into an accident?

The next best coffee shop became the place he would order lunch at. Entering the shop, making the little bell tingle, he rushed to a table, almost knocking an old lady from her feet. He didn't bother to look at her twice though, already pulling out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. An unknown number flashed at him, letters that formed the message the other had sent him underneath.

 _Hey, I hope you managed to get home safe yesterday morning. The night before, you seemed quite down, probably because of your situation. Let me know if you need help, I'll be glad to._

 _Preben_

Oh, right. He had left his number on a note the morning after their night out drinking. It was nice of the other to send him a message, even though it was completely unnecessary. Typing back a response, Sindre waited for the waitress to arrive with the menu. He was hungry.

Within seconds, his phone spoke again, announcing a new message from Preben.

 _I'm glad to hear that you were okay. And no, Björn did not get angry with me. At least, I don't think he did._

They exchanged a few more texts, polite questions about how their weekends had been and how they felt. Soon, Sindre's coffee had turned cold and his lunch break was nearing his end. He would have to hurry back soon. But it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who helped him forget about his troubles for a little while. It brought a small smile to his face.

 _Well, I enjoyed our little 'chat', but I'm afraid work calls for me. I can't let those kids go out on their own and risk them drowning, can I?_

He could almost see the other grin in his mind. Almost.

 _No, that wouldn't be too smart, I think. Good luck_

So the man worked at a pool. Interesting. How would he look in swim trunks? The Norwegian couldn't help himself but to imagine Preben in short trousers, chest bare and a friendly grin on his lips. Yes, Sindre decided, that did look good on him. He certainly would not mind nearly drowning if it meant the Dane would be there to give him mouth to mouth.

Shocked by his thoughts, he got up and fled from the shop, back into his working area, hoping to get the image out of his head. He somewhat succeeded at that, until his own doubts started nagging him again. Whether he was not creepy for thinking about that. The other would probably be angry at him if he ever found out. It surely was not normal to think about someone in their swimwear, especially if you only met them a few days ago. Sindre was relieved when he could make his way back to his brother.

Still eager to get his thoughts sorted out, his perverted fantasies washed off and out of him, Sindre decided that a shower could be a good idea. He left his clothes in a pile on the floor, feeling too tired to care. He grabbed his phone and put on a song, setting on repeat. He wanted to forget about the world for a while.

Steam filled the room as the water clattered onto his frame, warming his muscles and skin. It was unusually hot for him, but he didn't care. He wanted to relax, to feel the burn on him. He wanted to forget. Time ticked by as he just stood there, looking down at the grey tiles beneath his feet, watching the water go down the drain. Steam entered the room, filled it more and more, until he was starting to feel very hot. He had difficulty breathing, but he didn't move, continued to watch the water. Even when the edges of his vision turned black and his head felt light, he did not move. Only when his body fell limp and gravity pulled him down, did he shift. But not on his own accord.

In the room next to him, Eiríkur was startled by the sudden loud bang that came with Sindre's collapse. When the teen rushed into the bathroom, a wall of warm and damp air hit him in the face, making him squint. When he opened his eyes again, he was startled by the sight in front of him. Sindre had fainted, crashing against the door that closed off the shower. Under his weight, the door had opened, making it possible for the man to fall to the ground.

"Shit. Sin? Sindre. Can you hear me?" Squatting down beneath the other, Eiríkur pressed his hand to his brother's forehead, checking his temperature. It didn't seem like he had a fever, but you never knew.

"I need to get you out of here… First we have to get rid of this suffocating air though…" He got up again and walked over to the window, opening it with one swift move. The air outside suddenly felt freezing cold. Finally registering the sound of the shower, the teen rushed over and turned it off, making the room silent.

" _This is nice and cold… Why am I feeling so hot? I need to move. I need to tell Eiríkur that I'm fine._ "

But Sindre could not move his muscles. It was a strange sensation, he felt hot and cold at the same time. Everything was dark and no matter how hard he tried, his eyes would not open and his hands stayed limp next to his body.

It took a few more attempts until his eyes opened again. His vision was slightly blurry and his ears rang, a loud and high pitched tone screaming in them. As soon as he shifted a little, Eiríkur was next to him, a worried look adorning his face.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

" 'M cold…", he murmured, blinking slowly at the teen in front of him.

"I'll get you your clothes soon. But what happened? Why didn't you get out of the shower when you felt dizzy?"

Sindre shook his head, annoyed with the amount of words that fell from his brother's lips. He was fine, couldn't he see that? He had just fainted because he had refused to get out of the shower, nothing life threatening.

"I didn't want to. 'M fine. I need clothes", he slurred, still feeling slightly strange from fainting. He heard Eiríkur sigh and leave. Finally. Sindre closed his eyes again and drifted off, welcoming the embrace of sleep.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again, another day had passed. It was Tuesday now, and he had exactly 15 minutes to get dressed and head to the station if he wanted to be on time for work. So he reluctantly stepped out of the bed, finding his clothes in the wardrobe and a note on the table.

 _I'm already at school, had to meet up for a project. Food's in the fridge again. Please take better care of yourself today._

 _-Eiríkur_

Sindre grimaced and tossed the note in the bin. Of course he would take care of himself. He was a grown up man, twenty-six years old. He had been living on his own since his eighteenth. So of course he could manage to eat and not faint again.

On the other hand, it was nice to have someone worry about you. Looking back, it had probably not been nice for Eiríkur to find him passed out in the bathroom. He should apologise for that when he returned from work. Taking his last bite of his toast, he hurried towards the door, grabbing his coat and putting on his shoes. He could not afford being late. The next train would leave half an hour later and the journey took him forty-five minutes. That's what you get when your brother studies in another city…

He managed to be on time. His day was not much different from yesterday, save for the messages Preben sent. Today, there was no beeping phone during work hours, nothing. Sindre caught himself glancing at his briefcase again and again, longing for lunch break so he could make sure that he had not accidently turned off his sound.

But when the time was finally there, he was sad to discover that he had not forgotten to turn his phone on and that he just did not receive any messages. Disappointed, he shut the device off and tossed it back into the briefcase, before heading back to his desk. Lunch could wait until later.

The days continued in their dull slur, not interrupted anymore by text messages from Preben. Document after document passed his desk and computer, signature after signature was placed at the bottom. Sindre started to loathe his work. When Thursday came around, he really felt like giving up on life and moving to a little cottage in the woods. Of course, he could not do that, since he had his job and he still needed to find the time to actually look for a new apartment.

When his phone chimed at 11:26 that morning, he could swear his heart skipped a beat. On Wednesday he had not been behaving much different from Tuesday. He even was so bold to just leave his phone on his desk, making up an excuse about a sick grandmother that was in the hospital. No one at work knew that both of his grandmothers had passed away long ago. But no message had come in that day either, and back at home he had tossed the thing somewhere on the sofa, leaving it there until it was time to go to bed.

With a quick glance, Sindre could read that the message had been sent by his new drinking buddy. What the message said, however, was still a mystery for him and he felt the excitement in his chest already. And finally, finally, lunch break arrived and he darted out of his office again, grabbing his phone and coat and rushing to the nearby park. He wanted to be outside for some reason.

 _Hey, I hope you're not too busy and I'm not interrupting something important. Björn said he had to go out for dinner with a possible big client tonight and he won't be coming home until late, so I was wondering if you wanted to go out to the bar together?_

Now his heart really did skip a beat. Why? It was just a small invitation for a drink together, nothing special. But it made him feel so much better, like the other actually cared about him and wanted him there.

 _Sure, I finish work at 6 today. The same bar?_

After a few minutes, a positive response came back and they decided on meeting at the library at six thirty. They would eat dinner together in a restaurant and then head to the bar for the rest of the evening.

By the end of his work day, Sindre was thrilled and pulsing with excitement while he walked through the city. Never had he felt this way when he went out to meet people. But something about that Danish man made him feel safer, like he could be himself. He would be understood, he felt. It was nice.

* * *

I know, I know, this chapter is short. Much shorter than the average chapter for Teenage Dream. But the thing is, I'm dealing with depression again and I just feel so tired all day.

On a positive note, I have already started with the fifth chapter, so it will be up soon as well :)

Thank you all again for your reviews and follows, they really are the only thing that keep me writing right now. So, never underestimate how much reviews are needed.

~Hana


	5. 15-10-2015 - 6-11-2015

Preben's days were not much different than Sindre's, save for the part that he worked at home most of the time. On Mondays he did not start with his lessons until one p.m., so he had all the time of the world to sleep in and work on the lessons for that day. He would start with that night's swimming class for the four to eight-year olds. They advanced quickly, but some of the students required a more special treatment, be it because they were scared or because they did not learn as much as the other children.

Then, he would think of what to let the older children do that day, not wanting to be the boring swimming instructor that only made them swim back and forth. To conclude the morning preparations, he would try and come up with ways to ignore the mothers' flirting and stay polite when dealing with grumpy old men that were trying to swim around while he taught the teen competitive swimming team. It would be a rough day, as it turned out.

First, one of the teens from his 1 p.m. lesson hit their head while turning around to swim back after one lane. This called for a rescue action, as the teen hit the wall hard enough that they passed out for a bit. One of the mothers apparently had never seen a man without a shirt, because she whistled and turned red as he tossed his tank top over his shoulder and dived into the water. Lovely.

Then, he had to break apart a fight between an elderly man and woman, who had accidently bumped into each other while swimming in the same lane. The man accused the woman of being blind and a stupid hen, which caused her to scratch his face. Both were asked to leave the pool and not return again.

Last but not least, one of the younger children got so scared when they had to swim through a hole underwater, that they ended up wetting themselves while waiting in line. Luckily, most of the children took it somewhat relaxed, saying that they were also scared to swim through it and that the other child had nothing to be ashamed off. One of the other boys went with him to go shower, leaving for the rest of the lesson. Poor Raivis.

Tuesday, Preben played with his phone during the lessons. He wanted to text Sindre again, ask him whether he wanted to go out drinking again. But he knew that Björn hated it when he went out after work, even though Björn worked longer hours than Preben did. So he decided against it, re-reading the messages from time to time, scanning the words for an indication that the other felt uncomfortable with his texts.

Wednesday, he had to take over Daan's shift. Daan was not an instructor, but a life guard and Preben really did not understand how that man could do his job. There were countless of pretty young men in swimming trunks and he had to try his best to not turn hard. After an hour, he had lost count how many times he had imagined an old woman in a bikini. After two hours, he had been hit on by three old ladies, one single mother and one very shy girl. He felt sorry for all of them, especially for the girl. She was pretty, blonde hair and a small posture, somewhat boy-ish. A little purple ribbon was tied around a few strands of her hair and her green eyes were really beautiful. But sadly for her, Preben was not into girls.

The day continued like that, with occasional hard-ons and getting hit on by strange people, including one very cute young man with soft-looking, half long hair, glasses and the most adorable swimming trousers with polar bears on them. Too bad Preben was already taken. When his boss finally announced that he could change and leave, he almost wanted to dance a little victory dance.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he decided that he did not have the time to take a shower. Sindre would just have to deal with the smell of chlorine for tonight.

.

While waiting for the other, Preben decided to borrow a book from the library. He could use some distraction when Björn was working until late again, and he had mentioned that fantasy novel a few days ago. As it turned out, it was indeed as nice as the Swede had mentioned. Once outside, Preben did not have to wait long until his drinking buddy showed up.

Sindre had dressed up a little, the Dane noticed. Instead of a wool jumper, he wore a button up tonight, together with jacket and dress pants. He probably had worn a tie as well, since it was almost a suit he was wearing. It looked nice, Preben had to admit. They walked towards the Italian restaurant down the road, having decided on that during Sindre's last break.

"I apologise in advance, I did not have the time to change after my shift at work, so I smell like chlorine. And before you assume anything strange, I work at the local pool", he told the Norwegian while they walked towards the restaurant. The streets were full, many people walking, driving and sometimes biking from their work to their homes, eager to meet their family or pets. Some were carrying bags, some were walking with other people next to them. A few had smiles on their faces, most scowled and looked stressed. Preben was one of the few people that was smiling, Sindre noticed.

Soon the warm and welcome restaurant appeared in front of them and Sindre started to feel a little nervous. It had been so long since he had gone out to a restaurant with someone he did not know that well. Before his break-up, his world consisted of his little brother and Heikki. But now, the Fin had left him and he didn't want to bother Eiríkur too much.

One of the hosts led them to a table, more in the back. Neither of them minded, outside it was starting to get too dark to see anything and they wanted some quiet before they would dive into the loud and smelly bar later that evening.

They sat for a while, silent. Both were still a little rushed from their day at work, lost in their own thoughts. When the waiter arrived, they had not spoken a word. The menu was small, but everything seemed delicious and they ordered quickly, having decided a few minutes after glancing over the dishes. Preben decided that a glass of red wine would be lovely to accompany his meal.

"So, you work at the pool?", his companion asked, an overall nervous look on his face. The Dane smiled, trying to reassure the other.

"Yes, I'm an instructor. I teach the smaller children how to swim and I coach the competitive swimming teams. Mostly the teens and the adult women. Sometimes I have to take over my friend's guarding shift, like today. It's less fun to be on guard duty, though. You get asked a lot of strange questions, sometimes even hit on. I guess that isn't too bad, it only means that I'm still handsome as ever." As to prove his opinion, he winked at Sindre.

"Ah, that sounds like an interesting job", the other only responded, seemingly untouched by the subtle flirt.

"You bet it is. I really love teaching the smaller children, the four to eight-year olds are my favourite class. They learn so quickly and are really friendly. You should see them when they finally master a certain move or when they manage to dive into the water without landing on their stomach. The joy they show then, that's what I enjoy most about my job."

While he spoke, a wide smile spread on his face. A few memories played through his mind and a happy buzz filled his chest and stomach. He really would love to have children of his own, some day. Too bad that Björn and he never had spoken about children. The stoic Swede probably didn't even want children.

The minutes ticked away, filled with small talk about their day. Preben learned that Sindre worked for the Norwegian embassy and had moved here when he started college. He had studied for four years and had been accepted into the embassy after a year when he had just turned 24. That was two years ago. He did not hate his job, but was mundane and boring. He did not enjoy the people that worked here and he missed Norway more and more every day. When his younger brother moved to attend college a few cities further, it did get a little easier for Sindre. But if the opportunity would arise, he would move back to Norway without a second thought. Especially now he was no longer tied to someone here.

Their food arrived and it smelled heavenly, Preben noted. It had been a while since he had eaten in a restaurant. Usually Björn and he would go out together, to celebrate an anniversary or a birthday. But lately it seemed as if his lover did not care for such trivial things, having missed the day Preben's mother passed away, three years ago. It had once again shown him that they were slowly falling apart.

Trying to think about things that weren't tied to Björn, Preben started to ask Sindre about his brother, his family, his opinions. He learned that the man enjoyed eating chocolate a lot and that he really hated eating broccoli. The Dane laughed at that, somehow it seemed childish to him that one would hate broccoli. The pout on Sindre's face made it even funnier.

"I'm not the only one who hates broccoli! My brother dislikes it too!", he scowled. The feeling their friendly teasing gave him, reminded him of Heikki and how the two of them would make fun of the other, themselves and the people that they would see on the streets.

With a sad smile, he sipped on his drink and watched the man with the large grin and spikey hair eat his pasta. He managed to get some sauce on his cheeks, the red nearly blending in with the freckles on his skin.

"You have a little something…", he said, wiping his own cheek with his index finger. Preben felt his blood rise to his face as he frantically wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Wow, that was so embarrassing. I'm somewhat of a messy eater when it comes to pasta. Perhaps I should have ordered pizza after all…" His face was still somewhat red and Sindre chuckled.

"Maybe we should ask for a bib, hm?", he joked, smiling slightly.

Their meal continued, sometimes interrupted with a few jokes and some small talk. Preben revealed that his mother had passed away from cancer and that his father had decided to travel around Africa in an old Jeep he had bought when Preben had still lived with his parents. From time to time the man would send him a card or a letter, often together with a picture or two.

Sooner than they had expected, they had finished their dishes, their glasses empty and stomachs full. After paying for their meals, they made their way to the bar, huddling in their coats, hiding away from the wind. The bar was hot, filled with sweaty people. It was not as crowded as the last time they had visited. Most of the men and few women at the bar were regulars, who got together to drink cheap beer that was just as sour as their moods, nag about their wives and husbands at home and complain about the lack of sex in their relationships. Perhaps a few of them were there to look for someone they could take home.

They sat on stools, resting their arms on the polished hard wood and ordered their first beer. It tasted just as cheap as usually, nothing had changed since last week. Much to Preben's disappointment. But once again, Sindre's company made up for it, his snarky remarks and sarcastic comments made his life a little less painful.

The hours ticked away as the alcohol flooded their systems once more. This time they took it easy, not too keen on getting back to their homes completely wasted. When they parted, there was a light rain in the air and it was just past eleven.

"Well, it was nice, once again. I hope you didn't mind me blabbering too much", Sindre said, suddenly conscious about how much he had talked with the other.

"No, not at all. You're far from boring and I really enjoyed your company." They shook hands, Sindre with his mysterious expression and Preben with his usual smile. Then, they parted ways, Preben waving before turning around the corner. When the other was out of sight, the Norwegian turned around and headed towards the station.

.

He really hoped Björn would not wake up from the sound of the front door closing. He had walked around town for an hour or two, before settling for a McDonald's that was open 24/7. Drinking a cup of coffee and later a milkshake, he wondered whether he should not go home. After being with Sindre again, it seemed less appealing to go back to a place where fighting was more common than normal talking. So, he sat in the warm McDonald's until three a.m., sipping his drinks and watching the wasted people order strange things.

Once inside the hallway, he carefully slipped out of his shoes and his coat. On his tiptoes, he snuck towards the stairs, only to be confronted by a note attached to the banister.

 _I've been up until two, wondering where you are, sending you texts and worrying myself sick. Don't bother going upstairs to sleep in our bed._

Oops. Feeling guilty, he decided to not listen to the note and go upstairs instead. The stairs creaked under his feet and he swore under his breath, damning his weight. A small crack of light was draped over the carpet, indicating that Björn was still awake. When Preben opened the door, he was met with a death glare.

His Swedish lover was lying in bed, sleepwear on, his phone in his hand.

"I…" Preben began, but was cut off by Björn.

"First, you decide to leave a note in the bathroom, where I won't find it easily, saying that you decided to meet up with, and I quote: 'Someone I met last week, don't worry, they are nice'. Then, you don't respond to my texts, you don't pick up your phone, leaving me worried sick about where you could possibly be. And lastly, you stay out until three a.m., only to show up and walk into the room like an elephant. Do you have any idea how pissed I am right now?"

The last part was a lie, Preben knew. He had not walked around like an elephant. A cat was a better description. Right?

"Look, Björn, I'm sorry. My phone must have died during the night. I don't know, I didn't check it. I'm sorry, I'll bring you breakfast in bed tomorrow, okay?"

Another glare was sent his way.

"As if breakfast is going to help", the man in bed huffed, putting his phone and glasses away, then rolling over. Preben sighed and made his way to the bed, stripping his clothes off. They smelt like alcohol. Just like his breath.

When he slipped underneath the covers, his arms automatically reached out for the other. This time it would be Björn who was the little spoon. His lips found the Swede's temple, placing soft, apologetic kisses onto the skin. They wandered down, to the cheek, jaw and neck.

"I'm sorry…", he whispered in between the contact of skin on lip. Over and over again, until he sensed his lover had fallen asleep in his arms. Preben himself would not fall into a light slumber until morning had already come.

.

The rest of his days were uneventful. He taught his classes, went to a movie with Daan, did some shopping for a new pair of trousers and a few shirts and lounged at home. Every day he sent or received at least one text to or from Sindre. Most of the time, it was a complaint about the weather, their job, or just a question about their day.

Three weeks passed by, only interrupted by a call from Daan who asked whether Preben wanted to take a few days off to go to a car show. Because Björn was against it, he declined. His Swedish lover was extremely jealous of Daan, which had been triggered by a drunk kiss from the Dutchman. It hadn't meant anything, Daan had ensured. But for Björn, all trust was gone and he no longer trusted the tall blond. For the Dane, it was quite annoying, because now he could not visit his best friend easily anymore.

He had considered going. He really had. He almost had said yes. But one smothering, hot kiss from Björn that left him longing for more, made him change his mind. Yet when Preben laid in bed that evening, content and lust stilled for that day, he cursed himself for not being able to resist the Swede.

On November sixth, his phone vibrated, announcing a text message. So far, nothing new. The content of the message, however, was not the standard 'How is your day?', "My boss is an ass' or 'What are you doing?'.

 _Hey, I'm sure you know I've been looking for a house. I managed to find one that suits my requirements. I'm signing the contract today, so that I can use the weekend to move. I really hate asking you this, but you don't suppose you could help me a little?_

For a few minutes, he just stared at the device in his hands. Even after the screen had gone black, he just sat there, doing nothing. What was he supposed to do? It was great that Sindre had found a home. It wasn't easy to find something here, most places were either very expensive or very let down.

He really wanted to help. But Björn probably wouldn't let him.

"Well, you'll never know if you don't try…", he muttered to himself, unlocking his phone again and calling Björn at work.

* * *

Here we are, chapter 5! Thank you all for your reviews and your good wishes.

I passed my driving exam on Wednesday and I have been driving people around for days, which is really fun.

~Hana


	6. 1-10-2015 - 3-10-2015

The alarm was completely unnecessary for Heikki this morning. He woke up before the cursed thing had started screaming. His lover was still sleeping beside him, looking as beautiful as always. Yet there was something he missed when he looked at the man. Something was not there anymore, something that had been there months ago. The smaller man shook his head and got out of bed, silently making his way to the kitchen to get some coffee ready.

While he waited for the liquid to be brewed, he faintly heard the alarm waking Sindre up. Minutes later, the soft _pat, pat, pat_ of Sindre's feet filled the house as he drowsily walked down the stairs. The Finn smiled a little, it still was a cute sight to him. They ate their breakfast in silence. A while ago, his lover would have clung to him, silently begging him not to go. But that had ceased about a month ago. Perhaps the Norwegian had noticed something had changed for Heikki?

He smiled while he got ready, eager to leave the house and be among the books in the bookstore again. They had hired him almost three months ago when he had lost his former job at a little café. He was still in training, but he was learning fast and enjoyed the things he did. His co-workers were very nice and they helped him a lot, especially Mr Karlsson.

Today, Heikki would be in charge of the new books that arrived a little over ten a.m. They were to be labelled and put into the right shelves and sections, in alphabetic order. It was not the easiest kind of work; you'd have to keep in mind whether the P was before or after the S. But he enjoyed it and it took his mind off of things.

Just like every day, Mr Karlsson kept a close eye on the younger Finn, checking whether he did not make any mistakes and making sure he did not need any assistance. When the blond seemed lost at what to do, the tall man would help him, gently telling him how to solve the problem he encountered. This had been going on since the day he started, since Mr Karlsson was in charge of the new employees. He was very friendly and always kind. Heikki liked working with the man.

And just like every day, Mr Karlsson told him at least seven times that he could call him by his first name, since everyone did that. But Heikki refused every single time. He did not want to get too close to his boss. It was unprofessional, he thought. So every day, Mr Karlsson asked him: "How many times do I have to ask you to call me by my first name?" And Heikki would respond with a quote from his favourite movie: "At least once more, Mr Karlsson. As always." Then they would both smile at that, and continue with their work.

For the past few weeks, Heikki had been talking more and more to Mr Karlsson. They seemed to have a few shared interests, apart from the books. They liked to take walks, loved dogs and enjoyed working with their hands, creating things. The Finn had shown his co-worker some of his newer projects, mainly sketches and designs for the clothes he would one day want to make. Sometimes he tried them out, in miniature. His model was his furry friend, a little dog names Hana. She didn't seem to mind and Heikki always made sure to not leave the clothes on for too long.

When his break came around today, the 24-year old found himself humming a little tune while he walked towards the back, swaying his lunch box with his hand. A smile was sent towards the young girl behind the register before he disappeared behind the door. His boss had already settled at the table, a sandwich in front of him, as well as two cups of coffee. One of them was wordlessly shoved over to Heikki when the smaller one sat down.

"So, Mr Karlsson, how have your projects been going? I tried to sketch that dress I told you about, but somehow my inspiration and motivation were quite low yesterday, so I only have the outlines… I'm sorry it's so disappointing", Heikki said, opening his sketchbook and showing it to the man next to him. Mr Karlsson took in the fine lines of the drawing, following them with his eyes. They were minimalistic, yet they gave him an idea of what was inside Heikki's head. It really fascinated him and he was glad that they exchanged ideas like this.

"Looks good", he told Heikki, before taking another bite of his sandwich.

"You think so? I think I might also colour it in blue, just to see the difference with yellow. Maybe I'll make the dress in both colours. Or even three, green could also work nicely." The Finn continued to talk about his ideas, until he was nearly bouncing in his chair. Talking about his passion always made that happen, and Mr Karlsson found it very endearing.

"We should get back to work."

"Oh, yeah, we should. I'm sorry, I was rambling and babbling again. I always do that, don't I? I'm so sorry about that Mr Karlsson. I'll try to be less hyper the next time", the violet-blue eyed male apologised, looking down at the table in shame.

"Don't worry about it", Mr Karlsson reassured, patting the younger one on his head. "It's fine." The man turned around to leave the room, but hesitated in front of the door.

"Heikki, ehm… I was wondering…", he started, but then seemed to get stuck.

"Yes? You were wondering?", the blond encouraged, getting up from his seat.

"Ah… Nothing. Forget about it." It surprised Heikki to see a blush appear on his boss' face. Before the Finn could respond, however, the 27-year old had disappeared from the break room.

"O..kay..", Heikki mumbled. He knew his co-worker was a bit of a shy man, but he had not expected him to be this shy. Shrugging, he left the room, turning off the lights.

The first day of the month was always fairly busy. Since it was October, everything was getting dressed up for Halloween. The thrillers were put on display and witches and spider webs were hung throughout the little store. On the chalkboard outside the shop, one of the employees had drawn a pumpkin. It was nice, but the Finn preferred the cosy and more family orientated celebrations of Christmas.

He diligently worked through his shift, not complaining about his sore back, his painful muscles. Without a word, he stacked books, carried them around and helped the customers with a smile. At the end of his day, Heikki found himself being praised by Mr Karlsson.

"Heikki, about today", the man began after his compliment. He fiddled with his tie, rolling it around his index finger and letting it loose again. "I was wondering. Would you mind going out for a coffee sometime this week? I could… Ah… I could show you my latest project." The blush reached all the way to his ears and created red spots in his neck. It looked adorable.

"I, I don't mind. Would this weekend be alright with you?", he asked. If he remembered correctly, Sindre had not mentioned anything regarding this weekend, so he was quite sure he could go out for coffee with his co-worker.

They decided to go on Saturday, which was only two days away. On his way home, Heikki felt a strange excitement pulse in his stomach, that did not go away. Even when he arrived at work the next morning, after another very empty and dissatisfying night without Sindre's kisses, his mind was still set on the next day.

Mr Karlsson seemed to pay even more attention to the small Finn that day, standing closer and helping him with every little task he had on hand. When Heikki couldn't reach up high enough, Mr Karlsson was bold enough to lift him up a little, so that the book could be placed onto the shelf. The action let the 24-year old flustered and confused. It took him a while to get his beating heart in control again.

When was the last time he had felt this way? His relationship with Sindre had been going on for nearly seven months, but it had cooled quickly about two months ago. It was mostly Heikki's fault and he knew that. He had rushed the stoic Norwegian, tempting him with cute smiles and puppy eyes. Back in spring, he had been head over heels for the incredibly handsome man. But nowadays…

Something was missing. Something in their relationship that had not been there from the start. Both of them had known it, possibly. But they had ignored it, pretended it would come one day. Perhaps after another round between the sheets, another shared shower or meal… Who knows?

But it never came. The fuel to keep the fire burning never arrived. And thus, their short but very hot explosion of feelings came to an end after four months. They became less affectionate, less cuddly. They did not have sex a lot anymore, never cuddled in bed. Heikki sighed and rested against the wall. It had been his fault and he really felt sorry for Sindre. He did really care about the slender blue-eyed man, but nothing could repair this now. He had to give up.

Especially now that he was starting to notice that he had developed something different than just friendship for Mr Karlsson. Heikki wanted to smack himself. How could this have happened? He had been in a relationship with Sindre when he started here and it had been fine at that time. But, the Finn supposed, he had found Mr Karlsson a very attractive man from the moment he had walked into the bookstore for his job interview. And well, the rest was history.

And tomorrow he was going on a… No, it was not a date. Or was it?

He was glad when Ms Peeters called him to help her with one of the registers. It took his mind off of the question that he had been playing with since yesterday. Was he going on a date with Mr Karlsson? They had exchanged numbers, so they could text each other the details later. So far, Heikki had only wanted to text the man about 73 things. Be it a butterfly that was still roaming around his and Sindre's garden, the way his dinner looked that he ate alone or the new hoodie he had designed on Thursday after his shift had ended and they had made the plans. And every time, Heikki had stopped himself.

The dilemma went on for the rest of Friday evening. It repeated itself. Again, Heikki had wanted to text Mr Karlsson and tell him about that new book he had seen at work today, about the little puppy he encountered in the park when he had walked Hana. But he had told himself his boss would not care for such trivial things. So he put his phone down again and continued to eat on his lukewarm spaghetti's, Hana begging at his feet.

Carelessly, he tossed one of the yellowy strings to her. She caught it with ease, jumping into the air. Heikki sighed and let his head rest on the table. His eyes were looking at nothing in particular, head struck with thoughts of Mr Karlsson, Sindre and how much of a mess this was. Reluctantly, he finished his now cold pasta. After doing the dishes, he sat down in the living room, grabbing his notebook to just write down his sorrows, in the hope they would ease down in his head.

 _I feel so stupid. Like I'm betraying Sindre. I can't do this. What if Mr Karlsson sees our meeting tomorrow as a date? Would I be cheating on Sindre? I don't want to cheat. It's horrible. No one likes to be cheated on, right? Would Sindre get angry? I bet he would. But he won't yell. I guess he would ignore me. He would be heartbroken. God, I feel so guilty already. I don't want to disappoint Mr Karlsson though. But Sindre is my boyfriend…_

 _It feels strange to write that. It has been so long since we went on a date together. When was the last time we made dinner together? Or baked a cake, for that matter? In the spring, I remember going out with Sindre and Hana, to the park. Or we would drive somewhere, to a lake or a forest. Hana loved it. I loved it. It was so nice. Sindre would hold my hand, if we were alone. We'd kiss under the trees. That was so nice. I remember that day well. But now, it seems like something that won't ever return. I feel bad about this. I'm sorry Sindre._

Tears had started to form in Heikki's eyes and they threatened to spill out and ruin the paper. So he closed the book and set it on the table. Hiding his tears from the outside world behind his arms, he laid down onto the sofa, sobbing into the pillows. What had he done?

* * *

The next morning, Heikki was awakened by the sound of an incoming message. He had fallen asleep on the sofa after crying, Hana resting on his feet. The small fluffy ball jumped to the ground with a happy bark, running around the Finn's feet.

"Alright baby girl, you'll get your food in a bit. Let me just check my phone." But the dog seemed to have other plans, for she kept jumping up to his shins, nipping at his ankles. Shaking his head with a soft smile, Heikki grabbed the can where he kept the food and poured some of it into the bowl.

"Bon appétit!", he cheered, gesturing towards the bowl. It was the sign for the dog that she was allowed to start eating.

Now that he had been distracted by the dog, he might as well get started on making a cup of coffee for himself. While the beverage was brewing, he could check his phone. Delicious wafts filled the kitchen. Unlocking his phone, Heikki was surprised to find that the time was 9:17. Who would need him that early on a Saturday morning?

It turned out to be Mr Karlsson. He had texted the location they would be meeting up before they would walk to the café. He asked whether Heikki would mind grabbing lunch together. The Finn certainly did not.

He had a little over an hour left before he would leave. It was enough to go shower, put on some decent clothes and take Hana for a short walk. But only if he finished his coffee soon. His fingers tapped on the screen, creating a message to Mr Karlsson.

 _Hello Mr Karlsson,_

 _You sure are an early riser, haha. I would not mind eating lunch with you, it would be my pleasure._

He hesitated for a while, thumbs twiddling in the air. What to say?

 _I am looking forward to our meeting._

Another pause. Why was it so difficult to express his gratitude? He had never been this awkward and insecure when he was talking to other people.

 _Thank you again for inviting me. It is very nice of you._

 _-Heikki_

Only three minutes later, his phone buzzed again, announcing another new message.

 _I'm glad you're looking forward to this, since I am too. It's no trouble, I have been meaning to do this for a while. We'll see each other in a while._

 _How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Mr Karlsson?_

 _-Björn_

* * *

Welp, now you know!

~Hana


	7. 7-11-2015 - 8-11-2015

There he stood. Unfamiliar keys in his hands. Cleaning utensils on the floor to the left and right of him. It was quiet around him, no other tenants or visitors. He sighed.

Eiríkur would join him later today. For now, he was home alone. Home… Such a strange thing to say, really. 'Home is where your heart is'. Well, certainly not here.

But it was better than nothing.

Turning the keys around, Sindre opened the door to his new apartment and stepped into the hallway. It was not big, not luxurious. It had a living room and a kitchen in one room, a bathroom and a bedroom. And something that was supposed to be a second bedroom, but could barely fit a bed.

But it was better than nothing

The flat was not in a nice neighbourhood where young mothers lived with their families. It was a neighbourhood where mainly students, poor people and people with addictions lived. It certainly did not feel inviting.

But it was better than nothing.

It smelled strange, a bit mouldy, like no one had opened the windows in years. Strange stains adorned the walls. The carpet was coming loose at some points, as well as the wall paper. The windows were so dirty, that you could not see the court yard in front of the building. The kitchen was a disaster.

But it was better than nothing.

The cleaning came along alright. He started by opening the windows, cleaning them on the inside and outside. The light that suddenly was able to fill the room unhindered, made the situation seem a little less grim. Next, he vacuumed the place, before going over the floor boards with a mop. The water turned brown. Up next, the kitchen. Again, the water turned brown, but it appeared the kitchen was once white, not grey. A small smile found its way to Sindre's lips.

It took him all morning to get everything clean, but it was alright. That way, he had no time to get giddy and nervous for the afternoon, when Preben would come to help him pick furniture and other things he would need in his home. Sindre had refused Heikki's offer to get back his own stuff. He wanted a fresh start, without anything that was somehow related to Heikki and their time together, even if it had been short. The Finn had understood.

So, Sindre had texted Preben that Friday, asking whether he could help him out. Preben had texted him back a few hours later, joyfully explaining that he had gotten the 'okay' from Björn. The text had made his day, together with the brand new set of keys that the landlord had handed him that afternoon.

When the doorbell rang, he was surprised that so much time had passed already. A little worried about what the other would think about his new nest, Sindre walked to the door. Behind it, Preben was waiting, equally worried and nervous. He had no clue why.

"Hey, thanks for coming", Sindre greeted, stepping aside to let the other in.

"I'm so glad you found a place this quickly. It's been a while." The Dane pulled him into a hug. Sindre hoped that the other did not notice how stiff he was.

"Yeah. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

They walked into the living room and Preben let out a little whistle.

"Nice little palace. I would move in anytime." The Norwegian snickered.

"That's because I spent the whole morning cleaning it. I just threw away the water, it was not a pretty sight or smell."

"If you say so. What do you want me to do?" The Dane rocked back and forth on his feet, eying his friend with twinkling eyes.

"Well, for starters, we're going shopping."

"Shopping… Oh jolly…", Preben groaned, standing still and batting his eyes towards the heavens. But he followed the smaller male nonetheless.

* * *

The stores were crowded and Sindre immediately felt out of place. Preben didn't seem to mind, he chattered aloud, pointing to pieces of furniture that he liked and making fun of the people that walked along the path. A woman with pink hair and all purple clothes, a mother with two children dressed up as Pokémons… It was really something strange.

It didn't take them too long. They picked up nearly everything Sindre needed. A young man helped them carry the items to their car and follower. When everything was loaded in, they drove off.

Preben sang along to the songs as Sindre drove back, trying to memorise where he was going for when he would need to go to the stores another time. It was pleasant, much more delightful than when Sindre would travel with his little brother. More lively, more joyful. It seemed like Preben's energy would never be able to run out.

"And I will walk 500 miles and I will walk 500 more. Lalala, I don't remember the lyrics", the hyper bouncing ball sang. Sindre chuckled.

The drive continued like this, the Norwegian smiling a little, laughing softly from time to time, while the Dane kept on singing off key, forgetting the lyrics and murmuring nonsense to the beat. He could get somewhat used to this, Sindre concluded when they pulled into the parking lot of the flat. Not every day, of course. But from time to time, to get his mind off things… It wouldn't be too bad to see Preben more than once every month.

The first thing they brought into the apartment, were two chairs so they could sit and drink some coffee. When he had gathered the few belongings he had still left, the coffee machine was the first one. Now, the two of them were relaxing, a mug between their hands and a smile on their lips.

"You know", Preben started, setting down his beverage. "I somewhat missed drinking with you. It was really nice to do that, those nights when I fought with Björn." Sindre replied with a smile and a nod. The rest of their break was surprisingly spent in silence, both pondering on their lives. The smaller one tried to tune down his excitement and settle his overexcited heart down again, but to no avail. Now that he was alone with the handsome Dane again, his nerves were taking over.

He had noticed that was happening more often when he texted Preben. Or when they met for drinks. His heart would start punching him in his chest, its rhythm strangely off beat. Sometimes he would feel butterflies. Moments like those made Sindre want to slap himself or jump into a tub filled with ice cold water. Why was he developing a crush on the man? They had barely known each other for a month.

Since Preben was still in a relationship and Sindre just got out of one, he had decided to let things be the way they were. No flirting, no dates, no overexcited text messages about the little cute thing his brother had said. He would just continue living on the way he had done before.

They decided to set up the bed first, since Sindre wanted to sleep not one night longer with his little brother. Not that he hated it, on the contrary. But he felt like he had imposed on the teen long enough. Sooner or later his schoolwork would suffer, and that was not something Sindre wanted to see happening.

Next was the sofa, dining table and the chairs followed soon after. The last thing to be build, was the coffee table. Exhausted, Preben collapsed onto the sofa when they were gone, paying no mind to the mess that was all around them. They had ordered take out a while ago and now they were full. Within a few minutes, he had fallen asleep.

At first, Sindre didn't know what to do when he found the other asleep on the sofa. His emotions were somewhere between panic and awe. He looked so adorable, his hair flopping over the arm rest, one leg over the back of the couch. Preben's position seemed anything but comfortable.

In the end, he decided to just let him stay. The blond grabbed a blanket and draped it over the other. Then, he made himself ready for bed. An old shirt as pyjamas would suffice. Brushing his teeth, he thought about what a strange day it had been. If you had asked him four months ago whether he would see himself move and ask a near complete stranger for help, he would have raised a brow quizzically and say you were an idiot.

Yet here he was, brushing his teeth while a near stranger was sleeping on his new sofa, in his new apartment. Life sure was strange.

* * *

 _He remembered this place. It was a place he loved. When everything was still fine. When his mother still smiled, Eiríkur still laughed and was curious, when their father was still alive. Before the other man came along…_

 _They were out in the park. Eiríkur was still small, a little unsure on his legs. Sindre was bigger and protected him, helped him climb the stairs to the slide, pushed him on the swing. Their parents sat together on a blanket, their mother leaning against their father. He was looking at them, smiling a little. The adults spoke to each other in hushed voices._

 _The dream shifted._

 _Tears were now on their mother's face, as the young woman stood in front of a rounded stone, letters carved into them. Eiríkur was a little older, but still too young to fully understand. He cried, just like his older brother. But Sindre understood. He understood that his father would never come back. He cursed that drunk driver that had hit his car._

 _The dream shifted once more._

 _Once more a somewhat happier memory. Their mother was smiling again, blush on her cheeks. A new man was standing next to her, but he didn't look like their father. He had a moustache and green eyes. He seemed scary. Eiríkur didn't want the man to move in with them. Sindre squeezed his hand. The man did move in with them._

 _And again, the dream shifted._

 _A church, filled with people. Sindre hated the suit, back then. The tie was too tight and his pants gave him little freedom to move. He wanted to stay with his mother and Eiríkur, but he was not allowed to. The music seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. He didn't listen to the people that were talking as his mother walked into the church in a white dress. He didn't hear the words the priest said. Nothing seemed to reach him as he felt more and more anger inside of him. How dare his mother replace their father?_

 _The scenery changed._

 _He was at home now, Eiríkur behind him, both hiding in their bedrooms. Screams found their way into their ears from downstairs. Crashing sounds, more yelling. It had been going on like this for a while now. It had started when the new man had begun drinking again. More and more empty bottles, more and more fights. He had started to hit Sindre, then Eiríkur. Their mother had jumped in between, said that it was her fault. Sindre had run away with Eiríkur._

 _Another change._

 _This time, Sindre was in the darkness. He felt someone hold his hands. Eiríkur walked on his own, his mother pulling on the smaller one's other hand. They were running away, away from the place they had once called their own. The man was crazy, the woman had said. He was no good, she said. So they had to leave. Sindre didn't mind. He wanted his mother to be happy again, no more hitting and yelling. So he went along. Gently urging his brother, not complaining. Until they reached their destination, far away from the house they used to live in._

* * *

Sindre awoke with a headache. Where was he? In the dim light, he did not recognise the strange walls, the strange sounds. He felt alien in his room. Where was he?

Then he remembered. He was no longer at home. His mother did not live anymore, his brother and he were save. The man had not found them, Sindre had moved on. This was his new home. Preben was still with him. He sighed and turned around, ready to sleep a little more.

But the shrill screams of Preben's mobile phone, would not allow him to. It rang once, twice… Three times, before a very sleepy, very sexy voice answered it. Sindre tried not to listen. He really did. But he failed. He heard everything. How Preben apologised to whoever was on the other side of the phone (probably Björn, Sindre thought). How he got up and tripped. How he told the other that he was alright, that he had been sleeping at a friend's place.

No, not Daan's, Preben said. Yes, he had texted, but it seemed that the text had never reached the other. Sindre assumed that was a lie. He heard Preben groan in frustration, before something was chucked through the room. The other landed onto the couch with a soft thud. Perhaps it was time to get up soon.

He waited another five minutes. Hopefully, his temporary housemate had not fallen asleep again. The scent of coffee that greeted Sindre when he opened the door to the living room, proved him wrong.

"Good morning", Preben said, seemingly as cheerful as always. "Did my cell wake you up?" His blond hair danced on his tired head as Sindre nodded.

"I'm sorry about that. Björn was quite worried about me. I must have been very tired, falling asleep like that. Thanks for the blanket, by the way."

Too many words. No one ever spoke that much in the morning. Maybe it was a Danish thing. Sindre was not a morning person. Maybe after a cup of coffee, he would say one word and let you finish two sentences. But he didn't dare to interrupt Preben. He didn't want to ruin the peacefulness of the morning. So he stayed quiet and accepted the mug.

The sun greeted them through the now clean windows. And for a moment, the world didn't seem like such a horrible place. The rays were beautiful, colouring the whole apartment golden. Even Preben managed to stay silent for a few minutes while enjoying the sunrise. They had awoken way to early. Sindre still felt tired.

"Well, let's get started after a nice breakfast, what do you say?"

And again, Sindre only nodded. This time, with a gentle smile around his lips.

* * *

It's not my best chapter and I know it. I procrastinated it a lot and I had no clue what to write about. I hope you all liked the little interlude with Björn and Heikki. I might write some more for them, later on

~Hana


	8. 3-10-2015 - 10-10-2015

The date that was not a date went wonderful. The coffee was nice, the restaurant was nice, Mr Karls- Björn was nice… Everything was nice. Heikki came home, feeling like he was walking on air. Sindre didn't seem to notice, his nose was between stacks of paper again that looked fairly important. The Finn decided not to disturb his boyfriend.

Instead, he grabbed his sketchbook and sat down on the bedroom floor, head resting against the bed, knees towards his chest. During their date that was not a date, Heikki had seen and heard so many things that had inspired him. He needed to get them out of his head and onto the paper. He sketched dresses, trousers, blouses and t-shirts. Shoes and hats, gloves and a few swimsuits. After 20 rough sketches and three more detailed ones, he finally put down his pencil and stretched. It had been a good day for him.

During their lunch, Björn and he had talked about work, about their favourite books, their love for dogs… It turned out that his boss really found Poodles adorable. Probably because they had owned one when he had been younger. She was called Ronja.

They had gotten a few strange looks, mainly from elderly people that were walking around, and Heikki felt himself turn slightly insecure. Perhaps they thought he was on a date with the handsome man in front of him? But they had both silently agreed to not call it that.

The petit blond was quite happy about that fact. It soothed his guilty feelings towards Sindre to a certain extent. But at the same time, he felt not very satisfied and after being with Björn in a more private and leisurely setting, he wanted to get to know the man even more. With a sigh, the Finn stood up from the floor. Perhaps a shower and then some dinner would do him well.

The shower was indeed very refreshing, even though he could not get the image of a certain tall, blond man out of his head once he had thought about said man joining him in the shower. Surprised and embarrassed by his thoughts, Heikki had turned the shower icy cold. It did not really help.

Exhausted, he collapsed into the chair at the dining table, nearly spilling his red wine that he had poured himself to accompany his food.

Again, it was just him and the dog. Heikki was used to it by now and he didn't really mind. He grabbed his phone and opened it, surprised to find a message there. A smile appeared on his face.

 _Hello Heikki,_

 _I hope you had as much fun today as I did. It was my pleasure to spend time with you today. Hopefully we will see each other again at work on Monday, assuming nothing changed between us in our professional relationship._

 _Björn_

His smile grew wider as he read the text. Of course, it was quite like the Swede to write such a formal text. Björn really had troubles finding the right words. He either did not talk at all, or he sounded quite old-fashioned. Heikki blamed the man's parents.

He typed a reply, confirming that he, too, had enjoyed their little meeting and that he looked forward to working together again. Gathering some courage, he shyly asked whether a second meet-up would be something Björn would want to do some day.

The phone stayed silent for the rest of the night, much to Heikki's disappointment. He busied himself by watching a few movies and sketching some more, but his sudden moment of inspiration left him. He constantly felt the need to grab his phone and check whether a new message had been sent. This night, Sindre joined him on the sofa and they watched a talk show, their feet touching while they both sat on their legs on the opposite side of the piece of furniture. It was nothing like lovers normally sat.

Untucking his legs from under his body, the Finn stood up and headed to the bedroom, after giving a chaste kiss to Sindre's cheek. The other showed no sign of wanting anything from him. He shrugged. It had been this way all the time, why would it change now? If anything changed, it was Heikki. Just before he turned off the lights, he unlocked the screen again. Still no reply. Had he said something wrong?

* * *

On Sunday, his phone stayed silent as well. Many, many times he unlocked it, checking the top left corner for messages. But to no avail. Just like the day before, no messages arrived all day. It seemed like his boss had disappeared from the earth. He was starting to get worried and almost texted the man. Almost. But he was interrupted.

Sindre had showed up, leash in his hand and an extra coat. He had his eyebrow raised, silently asking Heikki to join the two of them on a walk. Dropping the device in his hand, the Finn nodded and got up. Maybe some distraction would do him good.

Their walk was nice. It wasn't too cold yet, so they left their coats open. Hana ran around, jumping and chasing things that seemed interesting to her. Sindre held his hand. They talked. They laughed. But it wasn't like it used to be. The magic had disappeared. Like the colours had suddenly turned more grey, washed out. Everything seemed dull.

At the end of their walk, Heikki felt tired and bored. Not that Sindre wasn't nice company. It just was so different from Björn. With Sindre, it felt more like he was walking with a friend, someone he had known for a longer time. With the Swede, everything was fresh, new, exciting. While silently eating dinner with the other, Heikki thought it was safe to say that he was no longer in love with the Norwegian. He didn't feel butterflies, no happiness when they touched. It just felt dull.

Perhaps you could even say that he was in love with his boss. The day he had gone out with Björn, he felt his cheeks flame whenever the other looked at him, his heart race when they accidently touched. His stomach seemed to be in a rollercoaster and at the end of the morning, Heikki was feeling slightly nauseous.

The feelings did not really surprise him, he concluded when he laid in bed. He had felt them coming, had been aware of Björn all the time. He had known that he was falling out of love with Sindre. Yet he had not expected to fall in love with his boss that soon. With the worrying thoughts still nagging him, he fell asleep.

On Monday, he woke up before his alarm again. Full of energy and ready to go, he nearly jumped out of bed. He sang in the shower; the song was called Dynamo by Stam1na. He loved it, especially the acapella part. It gave him the feeling that he was freefalling, like nothing around him mattered or even existed. Unfortunately, it woke up Sindre, who decided to start on breakfast for them. They once again shared it in silence, more like housemates than lovers.

With a grin that barely fit on his face, Heikki arrived at work. Ms Peeters smiled at him and they talked about their weekends. The Finn decided that it would be best to not tell her about his little date that was not a date with their boss.

The latter showed up soon, slightly startling Heikki by suddenly appearing behind him. They exchanged a greeting and Björn told him to rearrange a certain area of the bookshop, before returning to his own post. Neither of them mentioned Saturday, neither of them started about the text conversation that was still not resumed. The day went by in the blink of an eye and before he knew it, Heikki found himself in his bed again.

The following days continued to fly by like that, barely leaving him time to think about his relationship with Sindre, that seemed to be less and less a relationship and more like two roommates in college. He didn't notice that he was distancing himself more and more from the Norwegian. Sindre didn't seem phased by it too much.

On the fourteenth of October, the Wednesday two weeks after their first day out together, Björn asked Heikki whether he would mind to go out for dinner together. After a quick text based conversation with Sindre, Heikki assured him that he had no objections and they headed out together after their shift.

It was a cosy restaurant. It was not brightly lit, which gave it a very homey atmosphere. Music played in the background and people were chatting with the people they were with. Waiters in dark red aprons and white blouses walked over thick midnight blue carpet. The menu looked very appetising and somewhat expensive. Björn promised that it was no problem at all and that he would pay for their night. Heikki agreed, but only after Björn had agreed that it would be Heikki's treat the next time.

They chatted and chatted. Topics varied once again and the small Finn enjoyed himself thoroughly. If you had asked him what he liked about this, he would have not been able to give you a reply. It seemed like everything was more interesting, more beautiful when he was with Björn. Everything the man said was interesting and funny. He seemed to be able to tell the most beautiful stories and he was very well-educated. Heikki loved it.

They forgot about time. Lost in their conversations and the excellent food that was served, they did not notice how the hands on their watches moved to 7 p.m., 8, 9, all the way to 11. Only when one of the waitresses came by and asked them to finish their meal, did they realise how long they had been out.

Heikki felt very guilty and he felt even more horrible when he found that he had three missed calls and quite some text messages from Sindre. When he arrived at home, he found his lover already in bed, but with a book in his slender hands. To make up for it, Heikki settled between the Norwegian's arms, pressing gentle and sweet kisses on the pale skin. They fell asleep like that, tangled up in each other's arms.

* * *

The next time Heikki and Björn went out together, was Friday the twenty-third. There was a party being held by the bookshop, to celebrate something that the Finn couldn't and didn't want to remember. It was a plus one event, but Sindre had said that he didn't feel that well, so he had not gone. Björn also showed up alone, so the two co-workers spend the night together.

They drank together, gossiped a little about the other people in the room and the outfits they wore. After a few more drinks, Heikki even managed to get his stiff boss out on the dancefloor. Perhaps also because some very lovely tunes from a Swedish band were playing.

Heikki ended up drinking a little too much and Björn offered to bring him home. Giggling all the way like a teenage girl, the Finn let himself be led by the tall man. Which was good, the Finn could not really walk in a straight line. Björn looked good in a suit, the smaller one decided. _Very_ good.

At the front door of his and Sindre's house, Heikki felt a little less intoxicated. The cold October air had cleared his head. Suddenly, Björn's eyes in front of him seemed too blue. He wanted to reach out and kiss him. He really did. The blue came closer and closer, until their noses almost touched. It was then when Björn pulled his head away and looked to the left.

"Good night, Heikki", he mumbled. Then, he turned around and walked away, into the night. Heikki stood in front of the door. What had he just tried to do?

The door behind him opened and he felt a hand on his shoulder. After turning around, he faced a sleepy Norwegian in an oversized Sabaton shirt.

"Come inside, it's late", he said. Heikki nodded and followed behind.

From that day on, Sindre did not initiate anything anymore. No more hugs, kisses, barely any small talk. He did not wait for Heikki to come home when he worked, he did not prepare coffee for both of them. Never again did he join them when he was sitting on the sofa, or when he was eating. The shared walks that had been somewhat common until that day, stopped as well. They were living separately in the same house.

The Finn felt guilty. So horribly guilty. But he couldn't help it. Every minute with Björn made him want to spend the rest of his life with him. He knew that he was rushing things again, but it really felt that way. Björn was somewhat similar to Sindre. Yet the Swede was better at showing what he felt than the Norwegian. The key to his emotions were his eyes and sometimes his words. At least, that was what Heikki thought. Maybe Björn was just better in opening up.

Things could not stay like this, he thought while he was once again at the bar with his boss. Their dates had become more regular over the past two weeks. After the twenty-third, they had gone out on Monday, on Thursday and now again on Tuesday. This had to end, or his relationship had to end. If you still could call it. But neither he nor Sindre had made any attempt to solve the problem that hovered between them. Sindre just went on with his life. He had been sent overseas, to Norway, two days ago. He would probably be in a meeting now.

Heikki was pulled back into the now by a big hand that landed on his shoulder.

"You okay?", asked Björn's familiar voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking about some troubles that have been bugging me for a few weeks, that's all. But don't worry, I kind of know how I'm going to solve them." _Yes_ , he thought. _This could not continue like this._

His boss had raised his eyebrows, questioning the truth of the Finn's statement. But he didn't say anything, instead nursed his third drink for that night.

Their conversation was more centred about the past this time. Heikki told Björn about his life he used to have in his home country, before he moved away. About his friends, his parents. About how they still lived there and how his mother, who was no good with technology, sent him letters instead of emails. It was cute, but sometimes he didn't find the time to reply for days and that always made him feel guilty. Björn just listened to him, a small smile on his lips.

"I just can't help but think that she will worry when I don't send back a letter within a few days, you know? Mothers are like that; they worry a lot. At least, my mother is. What is your mother like?", Heikki asked, taking his turn to sip on his drink. The Swede's smile faltered.

"She… She was always busy. With the store and so on. I was mainly raised by my nannies." That surprised Heikki. He had not expected Björn to have such a life. Sure, he had heard about the children of CEOs who never saw their parents and were spoiled with toys and expensive gadgets to no end. But that a bookstore chain could ask so much attention…

"My father left us when I was still little. He didn't want me. He was only after my mother's money", Björn continued after downing his whiskey. They stayed silent for a little and the Swede watched the remaining ice in his glass twirl around.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I just grew up with both of them there to pay attention to me and my sister and it was very loving altogether. Your story makes me appreciate them more than I already did." Again, Björn's hand found its way to Heikki's shoulder.

"'S alright", he mumbled to his co-worker. "Let's go home." The Finn nodded silently, getting out his wallet to pay, but was stopped by Björn's: "My turn."

* * *

Heikki barely realised that Sindre had returned a few days later. It was only noticeable because suddenly the laundry basket filled quicker and there were extra plates in the dishwasher. _Welcome home,_ Heikki thought with a grimace. Since the day Heikki nearly kissed the Swede, Sindre had been sleeping in the guestroom. Once again, the Finn decided that he had to end this relationship. But he was scared. Maybe Sindre would not take it well.

"Well, only one way to find out." He put down his papers and headed over to the guestroom that had now turned into Sindre's room. With a short knock, he announced his presence.

"Sindre?", he asked. "Can we talk?" The door was opened for him and he gave the man in front of him a sad smile.

They settled onto the bed. Or, Heikki did. Sindre stood in the room, looking seemingly uninterested at the man that had sat down.

"Okay, so, I am no good with this. I don't know whether I should explain things or just tell you what I want." No verbal response from the Norwegian.

"We can't continue like this, lying to each other, living in the same home but behaving like strangers or enemies. I… You…" He sighed and grabbed the pillow next to him and started to fumble with it. He should have thought about this sooner. What to say, how to explain things…

"Heikki." He set back the pillow and looked at his hands. This was probably going to hurt.

"I don't love you anymore. I don't hate you, don't get me wrong. It's just… Not there anymore. I'm sorry, I don-" But Sindre bolted out the door. Heikki could hear him grab his coat, put on his shoes and slam the front door shut. Then, an eerie silence settled over the house. He would never understand the beautiful man that he had once called his lover. He needed a drink. Alone. Otherwise he would make mistakes.

His cabinet contained quite some heavy drinks. Both he and Sindre could hold their liquor, if they wanted to. Heikki may or may not have pretended he was drunk when he was with Björn. Maybe.

With his teeth, he pulled the cork from his first bottle and downed a quarter of it into his mouth. His mouth that he never could keep shut, he thought angrily. Why did he have to go and ruin everything? Sindre was hurt and crying. Probably. He really had no clue.

Another few sips and Heikki wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Well, that shirt was ruined. He sighed and leaned back. It was for the better, he told himself. They could not have continued that way. He really was not in love with Sindre anymore. And his feeling for Björn only became stronger with every time they went out together. What if he had cheated on Sindre?

"That would have been worse", he said, closing his eyes and emptying the bottle. He felt sick. Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach had not been his best idea.

"Well, this whole day has been full of bad ideas, so one more won't do me any harm." His voice sounded strange. "Next, Koskenkorva!", he exclaimed. That was his next mistake.

"Finnish stuff is the best. Okay, even though Björn is Swedish, he's pretty good", he mused aloud. "He looks good. His ass. My god. His ass his heaven. I want to use it as a pillow."

Giggling, he took a few sips of the spirit drink. It burned in his throat and tasted of home.

"And his eyes, holy shit. They are so pretty. Like, like girl pretty. Or boy pretty, in my case. Ahh I want to kiss him…" After that, he blacked out. Maybe it had not been such a great idea to mix wine with the spirit drink.

* * *

Another chapter is up! Wohoo! I hope it's alright and I'm sorry for dragging this story on for so long and the amount of line breaks in this chapter... The next chapter will get it rolling. If you guys still want to read, that is...

~Hana


	9. 8-11-2015 - 26-11-2015

Over the span of three weeks, Sindre had started to get used to his home. Preben had helped him a few more times, picking up pieces of furniture and decoration that had been forgotten. Sindre had cut his hair, and it suited him, Preben found. For Sindre, it symbolised that his relationship with Heikki was truly over and that there was no going back. It was relieving.

Björn had started to overwork more and more the past few weeks. Every other day, he would have to go out for drinks or dinner with a client. Even in the weekends he had to be somewhere, do some shopping or go for a walk. The Dane found it puzzling, but didn't bother to ask. His lover would not tell him anything anyway. He had his assumptions about what was going on, but never openly voiced them. Not to Sindre, not to Daan, no one. He didn't want to bother them.

Whenever the Swede was out of the house, Preben busied himself with his work, visiting his Dutch friend and bothering Sindre at working hours. His texts were always short and sent during his breaks. To the Dane, it was the little light in his troublesome and dark days. They were loaded with fights and yelled arguments. The times where he didn't fight with Björn, he felt loneliness creep up on him, so he would grab his phone. Only to abandon it after 4 unanswered texts, because Sindre was obviously working.

So, he started to frequent his friend Daan again, drinking with him, joking with him and doing stupid things. Like playing pranks on the Dutchman's neighbours. Or racing around town on bikes, without helmets. Or smoking together. Preben did not enjoy it that much, but Daan seemed to be convinced that it would solve all of his problems.

Two weeks after Sindre had moved into his new home, Björn had decided that Preben and he needed a day where they could spend time with their friends together, a day that they did not keep the other in mind. Where they could go out for drinks, or do whatever they wanted. At first, Preben fought it, saying he already did what he wanted and that he didn't need a stupid day for it. The whole idea seemed suspicious to him, but that he kept secret.

In the end, they (Björn) decided, that the Thursday would be the day they did not have to wait for the other to come home for dinner. Or for the other to come home to bed. They were free to go and stand where they wanted, as long as they kept things decent. When the Dane texted Sindre about Björn's idea, the mysterious man proposed the idea to make it a set night to go out together, be it for drinks, a movie or just a stroll.

Sometimes, they discussed their views on topics that had appeared in the news. Other days, Preben would tell awful jokes to cheer Sindre up. Okay, scrap that. He would always tell bad jokes to make Sindre laugh. The Norwegian's laugh was something special to Preben. He looked so pretty when he smiled, showing off his teeth. He had little dimples in his cheeks when he smiled.

This time, because of the bad weather, Sindre and Preben had agreed to meet in their little pub again. It was not as full as the last times they were here and they sat in a quiet corner. For the first 20 minutes, neither of them really talked.

The Dane's mind was occupied with how strange Björn had been behaving the last few weeks. First, the many 'dinners' with his clients, then leaving at ungodly hours on his free days and now his plan to keep their Thursdays open for themselves. He really could not figure out what caused his behaviour. Taking another sip, Preben furrowed his brow. Sindre noticed and cocked his head.

"Something wrong?", he asked, setting down his glass. The taller one shook his head as he downed the drink.

"No, just thinking…" The Norwegian decided to not pry and let the man be. He would tell him when he would be ready. It would not be polite to interfere with someone else's business. So they sat in silence again, while Preben nearly fried his brain.

The 'date' was suddenly interrupted by Sindre's phone screaming at him to pick it up. The man casted his companion an apologising look, before swiping the green button to the right.

"Sindre Kristiansen.", he stated, listening to the other person. "Hmh. Yes. No, I'm not home. Do you want me to come over? No, it's not a hassle. Thanks for calling. I will be there in a while. See you then." He hung up and sighed.

"Eiríkur, my little brother, appears to have fallen down the stairs and is now in the hospital, because they think his arm is fractured. So I am afraid I will have to leave…" Preben nodded and stood up.

"I hope it's nothing too serious", he mumbled. They walked over to the bar and payed their drinks. When they stood outside, Preben held out his hand for a shake.

"I will text you when I know more", Sindre promised and then disappeared into the night.

Unsure what to do, the Dane decided to head home. There was no use in sitting alone in a bar, especially with his thoughts all strange and clustered. Maybe the walk would clear his head.

On the way home, he passed houses that were brightly lit. Women and men were gathered in their living rooms, sometimes children sat with them. They all seemed happy, without fights. They were watching television, reading or playing on their phones. But nearly everyone had someone to hold close, to sit next to. The Dane felt an aching in his chest.

His 'family' was far from that. Björn and he had never been that loving and close, always held back by the tiniest wall. As if a glass panel was in between them. They could see each other, but not fully reach each other. He shuddered at the thought.

Preben did not want to go home yet. He dreaded seeing Björn, if the man was even home. Maybe he could crash at Daan's place? A quick text told him to "Fuck off and bother someone else. I have company." That option was gone. Well, home it was, then.

His watch notified him that the time was currently ten p.m. Not a bad time to get home. He would be able to shower, work a bit on tomorrow's lesson and perhaps even read. If his mind would allow him to.

The lights in the house were on and Björn's car was still in their driveway. As well as one Preben did not recognise. Perhaps they had company over? Their front door opened when Preben walked onto the driveway. Björn and a blond, slightly smaller man walked out.

The two stood next to each other and talked. Preben could tell that his lover was very nervous. It was strange, and the Dane nearly called out, when the other man suddenly reached up and kissed Björn. The Swede stood there frozen and didn't respond at all. Now he had done it. Furious, Preben walked towards the door and interrupted the scene by clearing his throat.

Björn looked up to him, followed by the other man, who scurried away from the Swede. A sweet smile appeared onto his face and he greeted Preben. The Dane stayed silent and watched the blond walk away.

When the door closed behind him and Björn, he took a deep breath. His whole body was tensed, fists clenched and nails digging into his skin. It took all his strength to not start yelling at Björn, to not grab the nearest thing and to throw it at the man. How dare he?

"Look, I can explain…", his lover started, but a raised hand from Preben silenced him.

"I don't want to hear it", he said stiffly, body shaking with kept in anger. "Go away." Without wasting another word on the Swede, the man walked out, to his room. He grabbed everything he could find that Björn had given him. Clothes, notebooks, jewellery, his phone case, books… Everything was thrown around the room, hitting the walls with loud bangs or soft thuds.

Exhausted from hauling the things against the walls and holding back his sobs, Preben eventually collapsed onto the bed. The bed that smelled like Björn. He let his tears roam over his cheeks as he punched the mattress, screaming into it. Why? Why was he so upset? Why had Björn not refused the kiss? What was going on?

The door creaked and the Dane stilled. He held his sobs back again and tried to take deep breaths to steady himself. Footsteps echoed through the room and he heard the shuffling of clothes when Björn started to clean up the mess he had made. It took him another 5 minutes before the man settled down next to him.

"Sorry." Preben scoffed. Like that helped.

"It wasn't meant to happen. I don't know what happened to him, why he did that. 'M sorry." The Dane turned around and glared at the man sitting next to him.

"Why was he here? Who is he? Does he know about us? Because if he does, he really has guts, to kiss a taken man." Björn didn't respond and looked down at his hands. Tears had started to well in his eyes and Preben jerked up.

Part of him wanted to hug Björn, wipe away the tears. But the part that was still very angry at Björn won and thus he sat still, observing the man. He clenched his jaw until it hurt, keeping himself from speaking. It was now Björn's turn, not his.

"He's a colleague. We had some things to discuss from work. It seems like he is in love with me. I didn't tell him about us, didn't think it would be necessary…" Preben froze.

"You didn't tell him about us? Did he not question the pictures on the walls? The extra mugs, my clothes lying around? You think I believe this? Fuck no. Like hell I believe you. Get out. Leave me alone." Björn flinched and opened his mouth to speak.

"Leave me the fuck alone Björn. I'm going away. Don't call me. Don't text me. Like hell I believe the little lie you just told. I bet you've been meeting him whenever you had to go out for dinner with a client. How many times did you two already fuck?!" His temper slightly scared the Swede, who had started to examine his hands again.

"I'm going to stay somewhere else tonight." With that, the Dane got up, stuffed a few random clothes into a weekend bag, grabbed his wallet and his phone and glared a last time at his lover.

"Don't come after me", he said with venom in his voice, before he slammed their bedroom door shut. His footsteps pounded through the house and a few moments later, the front door closed with equal force as the bedroom door had. Then, the house was creepily silent.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Preben showed up at Daan's house, dried tears on red cheeks and a bad mood from here until the moon. Without saying or asking anything, the Dutchman let his friend in, who proceeded to collapse onto the sofa, shoes and bag left somewhere in his trail.

Only when the Dutchman returned with a beer and a cigarette between his teeth, did Preben look up. "He's cheating." Daan raised his eyebrows, but still remained silent.

"I caught him with his colleague today. The man kissed him when I arrived back home." He groaned into the sofa and started to slam his fists onto the arm rest. He stilled when he felt another warm hand envelope his.

"You'll disturb the neighbours", Daan explained, but his eyes spoke of his internal worry.

They didn't speak of it that night. Preben drank one beer after another, but not enough to get hammered. He fell asleep before Daan went to bed and stayed on the sofa. He woke up with a blanket covering him, a cute bunny pattern sown onto it. The Dane would have laughed at it, hadn't he felt so miserable.

His phone was completely bare of any messages. Nothing from Björn, nothing from Sindre. Strange. He sent the latter a quick text, asking for an update from him and the man's younger brother. He got two pictures back; one of an arm wrapped in a cast, another one of Sindre, who was sporting giant dark circles and bed hair. The Dane smiled.

During breakfast, Preben explained what had happened. Daan listened to him without laughing at him or saying anything. When the rant was over, he opened his mouth.

"You're sure he was cheating? Did he kiss back?" Preben shook his head, chewing on his last bite.

"No, but he wasn't fighting it either", he pouted.

"Maybe he was surprised?" The Dane glared.

"This isn't a romantic novel or movie, Daan. This is real life. You don't get startled by a kiss and freeze. You can see it happening, someone moves in closer and they pucker up. You read too much", he concluded, setting down his half empty coffee mug. The Dutchman shrugged and started to clean up.

"All I'm saying, is that you should perhaps talk to him about it. Not now, maybe later. You can crash here for the night, but I'll be gone all day tomorrow."

Preben got the hint and nodded.

"I'll be getting my own things that I'll need for work and such. I'm pretty sure Björn's going to be at work today, so I can safely pick my things up."

"One last thing. Why don't you break up with him? You've been fighting for months and you've done nothing but complain about him to me. Wouldn't that help?"

Once again, the Dane was baffled by Daan's bluntness. Sometimes he could just state things without even batting an eye, not caring about how embarrassing or hurtful it could be.

"Well. I… I don't know, to be honest with ya. I'm scared. We've been together for, what, three years now. I wouldn't know where to go, what to do… It's easier said than done, I suppose."

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"You're right though. It probably would be better if I didn't stay with him. But you know… It's difficult. I still love him, so I don't want to leave him. Of course, the situation is not ideal right now. But… It's better than being alone."

Preben knew that it was a weak excuse. But it really was the reason why he stayed with Björn. He was scared of being alone. He didn't want to come home to an empty house, no one sitting there, reading a book. He wanted to be able to say 'hello' to someone. So he stayed with Björn.

Throughout the evening, Preben walked around town, entered cafés and bars. In the end, he settled for the park and thought about what to do now. He didn't want to go home. He couldn't stay with Daan forever either and he would have to talk to Björn eventually. He'd break his head over that later. Or tomorrow. First, he wanted to nap. Soon, he drifted into darkness.

* * *

Finally it's written. I've been a little busy these days, which is why it's late. Sorry.

EDIT: I fond out that I had suddenly changed the setting from night to day, so I fixed that.

~Hana


	10. 27-11-2015 - 11-12-2015

When morning came, Sindre was woken once again by his alarm. He didn't want to get up. Anything but that.

The whole night he had planned on spending in a bar, getting tipsy and maybe even drunk with Preben, had ended up being spent in the hospital with Eiríkur. His brother's arm was now in a cast and he had painkillers with him. That whole process had taken them five hours. So, naturally, Sindre was done with the world.

It didn't help that he had been thinking about how Preben had somewhat looked like a kicked puppy once the Norwegian had told him he needed to call of their drinking date. Of course, he had forgotten about keeping the man updated and he felt even worse now.

So, he got up and grabbed his phone, typed a text and settled onto the couch. Work could wait. Maybe he'd call his boss to explain that he needed to take care of Eiríkur. Not that the teen would let him help. Perhaps he could spend the day with Preben or something.

A little voice inside his head nagged him. _'Why do you want to spend it with him anyway? I thought you considered him annoying?_ ' Sindre waved his hand around, as to kill the voice to stop it from making more embarrassing thoughts appear. Like that last time he had showered. Goodness, that had been so awkward. He felt his cheeks rise in temperature.

Luckily, his phone vibrated. His tiny smile dropped when he saw that it was a text from Eiríkur's dorm mate. The kid asked whether he knew how many times Eiríkur needed to take his medicine. Both of them could not decipher the handwriting of the doctor.

' _What did you expect? That Preben would text you back right away? Yeah right.'_ That voice really was annoying. Yet Sindre couldn't help but let it nag him, gnaw on his self-esteem.

By the time he was ready to go to work, he still had not gotten a reply from the other. Slightly upset, he turned off the phone, in an attempt to play offended. But even before he actually arrived in the office, guilt was poking him and he turned it on as soon as he entered the building. Five seconds later, it whistled at him.

The smile he carried did not go unnoticed by his co-worker Louise and she raised her brow quizzically.

"Someone sending you flirty texts?", she asked and he tried to regain his composure.

"Not really", he responded and read the message again.

Preben had agreed to going out this night. He wanted to know what had happened to Eiríkur and had something to discuss as well. The lack of strange jokes worried Sindre a little, but he didn't say anything about it. If the other wanted to talk about it, he would start, the Norwegian presumed.

The day dreaded on and on, Louise throwing glances at him that spoke volumes. When lunch break arrived, she whisked him away before he could say "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious".

"So, tell me all about that secret admirer. And don't say there is no one, I have seen you staring at your phone for the past few weeks, so there really is something going on."

Sindre sighed. He supposed he could tell her a little. They had been acquaintances ever since he had started to work here. Okay, perhaps even friends. So, they went out for lunch together.

"There is no secret admirer", he started off after they had ordered their usual coffee. "Just someone I met after Heikki broke up with me and we've been going to the bar together every once in a while. His relationship is not that great."

Again, the woman raised an eyebrow at him while she adjusted her glasses.

"So there is nothing interesting going on?", she inquired, a little too eager on knowing what was going on between her co-worker and the mysterious person that had him _smiling_ during office hours.

"I'm afraid not." With that, the topic was dropped and they ate, discussing their private lives and that one annoying client that kept losing all the paperwork they had done for him. Lunchbreak was over before they knew it.

Once back in the office, Sindre realised that he had not checked his phone at all. He quickly glanced around, but only found Louise smirking at him. He rolled his eyes at her.

Traitor.

When the end of the work day rushed around the corner, Sindre was stressed and ready to hit anyone annoying in the face with a chair. Part of him questioned whether he would survive Preben's always happy mood, but another part really wanted to feel the safety and security he felt whenever he was around the man.

He decided that he would quickly head home to take a shower and get out of his formal clothes. Not that they looked bad on him. They were just a bit too much for just a friendly night out together as friends. Had it been a date…

Sindre shook his head. It was not a date and would never be one, he reminded himself. Preben was together with Björn and that was that.

Then why did it take him over half an hour to decide on which shirt he was going to wear? What did it matter that it did not match his socks? Now he had to rush to be there on time. The Dane had insisted on making a reservation for the quiet little café. It must be something really important that Preben wanted to talk about.

If not, then everything felt even more like a date. Sindre had to restrain himself from slamming his head against the steering wheel.

 _See, this is why you are single now. Why all the others left you before. Why no one wants to stay with you, friends or lovers. You are so weird._

It was clear to himself now that he had a crush on the man he had literally run into a few weeks ago. Not something he was very proud of. Nor was he proud on developing these feelings. But, they were there.

When he arrived at last, he felt nervous and giddy. He parked, slammed the door shut and marched over to the restaurant, not paying attention to the flowers in front of him or anything around him. Inside, a cosy atmosphere enveloped him and he took a moment to catch his breath. A figure in the back waved at him and Sindre recognised Preben.

After straightening his hair and shirt, he walked over, the sound of footsteps drowning in the carpet and the murmur of talking people. He was so nervous.

"Hey", Preben greeted with his usual grin. The Norwegian felt his stomach shift.

"Hey", he said, sitting down.

"I already ordered my drink, I wasn't sure whether you wanted coffee or something else."

"I think I'll take water tonight", Sindre stated.

They did not start on the topic that Preben had wanted to discuss right away. First came the regular questions; "How was your day?" "Did anything happen at work?" "How's Eiríkur's arm" and so on. After Sindre had told his companion everything about what had been going on with his little brother, their food arrived and they fell into a silence.

Preben did not seem his usual cheerful self. He was less loud, less boisterous. No comments that were on the edge of being flirty, no boasting about his achievements. Nothing at all. Just talking about the weather and his work.

Halfway through his meal, the Dane dropped his fork and stopped eating. His eyes were trained on Sindre, who followed the example.

"So…", Preben started. Sindre raised an eyebrow.

"You see, the thing I wanted to talk about." He sighed and picked up his fork again, poking his food. The waiter drifted by and asked them whether everything was pleasant. Neither of them spoke, they just nodded.

"Björn cheated on me", Preben stated when the waiter left again. Sindre was surprised by the lack of anger or sadness in the other's voice and looked up, eyes wide.

"I caught him yesterday, after I went home. Another man was walking out of our house and after he said goodbye to Björn, he kissed him."

"Did he kiss back?", Sindre wanted to know.

"No. He just stood there. We didn't talk about it that much. After… After I cried, he came in and wanted to explain, but I was so fed up with him. First, he only fights with me, uses me for his own pleasure. He restricts my every move and controls me. And then he invites someone over who has the guts to kiss him out of nowhere!" Preben sighed in frustration and brought a hand through his hair.

"And now?" The Dane shot him a glare.

"Well, what do you think, Sindre? I'm crashing at a friend's place right now, but I'm not all that welcome there either. So I don't know." The last sentence made the man seem lost like a child. His gaze shifted to the table cloth and he started to poke his food again.

Sindre resisted the urge to gently take Preben's hand and instead decided to take another approach.

"If… If you want, you could stay with me. As a thank you for keeping me company all the time and helping with my move. I wouldn't mind." He was so nervous again. His hands curled into fists as he waited for the other to respond.

The Dane seemed completely baffled by the offer. He just stared at Sindre, his fork resting on the side of the plate, mouth slightly agape.

"Are- You- I mean… Seriously? You would let me?" The Norwegian nodded, jaw clenched. This was going to be a bad idea, Sindre thought. But part of him was just too happy that he could have his crush in his home, living right next to him, so he didn't care that much. He now remembered why he hated being in love.

* * *

Preben decided to go and grab a few things, like clothes and work related documents, before heading towards Sindre's home. In the meantime, the Norwegian readied the old bed that he kept for situations like these and wondered whether he should vacuum the house. He decided against it, he had just done that this morning before he left for work.

The doorbell tore him out of his musing and he hurried down the small hallway, opening the door.

"Welcome back", Sindre said and he felt himself blush slightly at the ring those words had to them. "You know the way."

Preben stepped into the little house and headed to the guestroom, placing his bag onto the bed and dropping his laptop onto the pillow.

"Thanks again for this, man. You really have no idea how much this means to me." For a minute, Preben looked as if he was going to hug Sindre, but something apparently kept him from doing that.

"Coffee?", the smaller male asked while turning to the kitchen. The other just followed him instead of giving an answer.

"I'm not very good at helping people or talking about problems with them", Sindre confessed while he poured the liquid into a blue mug. "So, if you want to talk about it, you'll kind of have to start." His guest nodded and took the mug.

Once seated on the sofa, they shared a slightly awkward silence. It being mostly awkward to Sindre, Preben didn't care that much.

"We really did a lot of work that day, huh", he suddenly mused, looking at the now painted walls.

"Hmh", Sindre responded, sipping his coffee. The silence returned.

Eventually, they decided to call it a day and just head to bed. Sindre's alarm told him that it was already past midnight. He was lucky that it would be Saturday tomorrow. It took him nearly three hours to fall asleep. In those three hours, imaginary Preben had run out on him, kissed him, found him showering naked, seen him cry and declare his undying love for him. Sindre felt as if his brain had been fried when he finally fell asleep.

The sound of plates and mugs being moved around and set onto surfaces, as well as music, finally woke him the next morning. At first, he couldn't find a reason why someone would be playing music in his house, until he remembered that he had taken Preben home yesterday. No, not as a one-night stand. Sadly.

He forced himself to get out of bed and be a good host. Unfortunately, or fortunately, his help was not needed at all. Preben had prepared a little breakfast and set the table, as well as brewed coffee. It was not bad to have that man as a guest, after all, Sindre decided.

The day would tell him otherwise.

Preben dropped his favourite mug. He scratched the floor when he jumped onto the couch, nearly planting his very sexy behind onto Sindre's laptop. He nagged about being bored and he didn't want to talk about what he was going to do about him and Björn. He made a mess in the bathroom by letting his towel and dirty clothes lie around, not drying the floor and being a chaotic person in general. Sindre felt very sorry for Björn after that day.

When evening fell, he was about to snap at Preben for again running around and nearly crashing into the table, when the hyperactive man sat down next to him and his mood changed completely.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, avoiding the glare the Norwegian had been keeping on all day. "I know I'm really annoying and wild today. I don't want to be. I just don't know what to do and I don't want you to worry."

Ouch, that stung.

"It's okay", the host replied, making the other look at him. "I can imagine it's difficult for you…" This was getting awkward again.

"Yeah…" They say in silence again, until Sindre's stomach started to beg for food.

"Well, someone's hungry", Preben joked and got up. "Let's make something to eat. Or order, whatever you feel like."

"Why don't you cook tonight, to make up for today?", Sindre asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. The other smirked.

"You'll love it, I promise. You'll be begging me for more." That sounded really wrong, Sindre thought as he felt his cheeks heat up.

"Sure you will", he sarcastically remarked as he got up to put the magazine he had been reading away. "I'll be going for a walk", he then announced. He really needed some alone time now.

Dinner was indeed quite delicious and much quieter than the rest of the day. After doing the dishes together (and brushing their hands together a few times, which made Sindre nearly drop a plate), Preben retired to his room to do some work. Finally; some time to read.

That night, Sindre dreamed of kissing his guest. Not a chaste, shy kiss. No, a full make-out session, on the sofa, losing clothes. He woke up with the most beautiful shade of red on his cheeks.

Sunday wasn't that different from Saturday. This time, no plates or mugs were killed on the battlefield that called itself Preben and the man was overall more relaxed. In the afternoon, the man insisted on going to the park together to feed the few ducks that were still there. It was alright. Sindre had to consciously keep himself from grabbing Preben's hand or calling it a date in his head. The happy smiles that the other sent him, really did not make things easier.

* * *

Two weeks flew by, each day easier than the one before. They slowly became a team. When the one of them was out at work, the other would take care of cleaning, doing the groceries and preparing dinner. Afterwards, the one who had been at work would do the dishes and sometimes take care of the laundry, as well as ironing the clothes. They became more domestic and Sindre had a hard time not showing his affections to the other.

Not that his affections were that easy to notice.

When he returned home on Friday the 11th of December, he found his new house mate drunk on the sofa, beer bottles decorating the floor and table.

"What happened here?", he asked after he had hung up his coat and cleared the path to the sofa. Preben was out cold.

"You are such an idiot…", the Norwegian mumbled as he put a blanket over the other.

A few hours later, in the middle of the night, he was woken by a loud bang and a string of curses that could only be Danish, judging by the strange sounds that came from the other's mouth. Sindre had never liked the sound of Danish, even though it was somewhat similar to his own language. The sounds were just lovelier in Norwegian than in Danish, he found.

When another loud bang came from the living room, Sindre decided to get up and check on the stupid Dane that he had left there before he went to bed.

The lights were still off and he saw Preben, or his silhouette, standing somewhere between the kitchen and the living room. The man flinched when Sindre turned on the lights and revealed quite the mess.

Preben had knocked over a couple of bottles, and he was now holding his knee that he had seemingly slammed into the dinner table.

"So you're up", the Norwegian remarked. His housemate nodded. "Care for a glass of water?" Another nod. Sindre moved away from the doorpost and walked into the kitchen fetching a glass and filling it. The other took it with a crooked smile.

"Are you going to give me an explanation?", he asked Preben while he leaned against his counter top. The Dane sat down the glass after emptying it and avoided Sindre's gaze before responding.

"I saw Björn today. Met him in town, at the supermarket." He sighed and looked up to the other.

"I just don't know what to do. I miss him so much that it hurts. Not that you're bad company or boring or anything", he hurried to say. "It's just…"

Preben fell silent after that, looking at the floor and seeming very disappointed. Sindre did not push him, just like always. His mouth remained shut and he waited for the other to talk.

"So I drank. Hoping that would give me an idea of what to do. Usually it does. But now… No such luck. I really would love to stay here, it's so much calmer and stress free now that I'm not dealing with fighting all day anymore. But it's just… Lonely? I miss those few nights where he used to hold me or when we would do stupid couple things together. I can't really ask you for that, can I?"

Sindre decided that it would be best to not give him his answer.

"I know I should not forgive him that easily. He cheated on me, he forgot about our anniversary again, he did not call once after I left his house. Well, I guess I did tell him not to do that. But after two weeks, you would expect him to call, wouldn't you?" He looked at his host with pleading eyes. Sindre made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. Preben seemed to take that as a sign to continue talking.

"Of course you would, who wouldn't be worried about their boyfriend when they had not heard from them in two weeks?" Granted, Sindre thought, that was something that Björn should have asked about. If his boyfriend, or any friend, would disappear after a fight for two weeks, without updating him on their lives, he would get worried and at least send a text.

"But he didn't even ask where I was staying. He just nodded at me and then passed on to his lane. He didn't wait for me, didn't wave. Nothing. As if we were acquaintances or something." The Dane buried his head in his hands and Sindre felt the urge to reach out to him.

He surprised himself when he actually did and let his slim hand rest on Preben's broad shoulders. It felt nice.

The other did not flinch, only looked up. Then, he turned towards the Norwegian, burying his head against the other's shoulder.

"I am really that annoying? Does he hate me that much?", Preben mumbled while his shoulders shook. Sindre bit his lip.

"I don't think so. At least, you're not that annoying. Sure, you have your moments. But not enough to make me hate you." Was that suspicious? Would Preben catch onto his feelings now?

"Really?"

"Yes."

The arms that had been hanging loosely at Preben's side suddenly gripped Sindre's back and pulled him into a hug. Preben smelled nice, he noticed. Like… Like what, actually?

"Thank you", the Dane whispered, before letting go. "Uhh, I hope that wasn't… uncomfortable to you. Sorry about that." Sindre waved it off.

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

They stayed in the kitchen for a while, before Sindre decided that it was time for bed again. This time, his guest did not head for the couch, but retreated to the guestroom instead.

* * *

The next morning, Sindre was up before Preben, which was a small miracle. It took the man until well over twelve o' clock to wake up and shuffle into the kitchen, where the master of the house was checking his social media on his phone. He had totally not been stalking Preben's facebook, and especially not the pictures from a beach holiday a few years ago. Man, did that guy look hot in swimming trunks.

"Morning", the Dane grumbled while he rubbed his eyes. Scratch the swimming trunks, he looked good in boxers with tousled hair and sleepy eyes as well. Maybe even better.

Sindre gave him a small nod and raised his eyebrow at the lack of proper clothes.

"Is it uncomfortable for you?", Preben asked, but Sindre shook his head. "Alright", he said with a yawn, before he sat down opposite from Sindre.

"So, did you think of a solution yet", the Norwegian asked when the silence became too much for him to bear. Something he never really expected to ever happen, he noted.

Now it was Preben's time to shake his head, sending bread crumbs flying.

"Perhaps you could talk to Björn today?", Sindre proposed. The other seemed to think about that for a while. "I was thinking about visiting Eiríkur today", he explained when Preben did not give a response.

"Maybe… I'll try. When will you be home? Should I make dinner for two, or…?" God, that sounded so domestic, Sindre thought. He had not thought that he would ever like those things again. After Heikki left him broken and scarred, he had not expected to fall in love that soon again. Or live together with someone, for that matter.

"I'll let you know if I'm eating together with Eiríkur. But knowing my brother, he probably won't want me to."

"Alright, dinner for the two of us it is, then." Preben's flashy smile was back again. "I'll see you tonight."

The only thing that missed, Sindre mused when he drove to Eiríkur's dorm, was a kiss whenever he would leave the house. Maybe that would come one day. Or was that wishful thinking?

* * *

I am late. Sorry. Life happened.

There's a lot of line breaks. I'm sorry about that, too.

I'm flying to Poland on Monday to visit a friend of mine, so either there will be an update and another one really soon after when I have the time, or I won't update at all. I'll be back on Easter Sunday.

Thank you for being patient and still reading this.

~Hana


	11. 12-12-2015 - 22-1-2016

And before they knew it, Christmas and New Year's had passed. Preben had spent both of the holidays in bars, drinking away the sorrows that were inflicted on him by Björn, who still had not called him, who again forgot all about him and who didn't seem to want to talk whenever the Dane confronted him.

More than once had Sindre picked the man up, brought him back to his little apartment and made him breakfast in the morning. One part of him was still glad that Preben was staying with him. The feelings for the usually so happy man were growing stronger with every detail he discovered and he wanted Preben to smile more than anything in the world.

On the other hand, it made him realise more and more that they could not be together.

With a sigh, Sindre set down his coffee cup. He had cleaned the kitchen, which Preben had turned into a mess yesterday night in a drunken search for water and watermelon (that guy gets the weirdest cravings when he's drunk), hung up the clothes the other had shed when he headed to the sofa and placed a blanket on the now sleeping figure.

It had become normal for the Dane to come back to Sindre's home when he was drunk. The man had not been sleeping in the house he shared with Björn ever since the Swede had been caught kissing the other man. Sindre wondered if Preben ever would.

Their situation was anything but normal. They were certainly not lovers, but Sindre wasn't sure whether they were friends either. Preben didn't tell him anything about himself or Björn. He had told him that he worked at the swimming pool and that he taught the children and adults there, that his mother had passed away three years ago.

But anything else? Not really.

A rustle and a pained moan startled Sindre out of his thoughts and he rushed over to where his guest had been sleeping.

"Mown'ng", said guest mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Ah like wak'ng up to ya", he slurred, the effects of alcohol and sleep still clouding his brain.

"Good morning", Sindre told him, sitting down onto the sofa. "Did you sleep well?"

"How'd I get home?", Preben asked. He looked around, eyes half closed and hair standing up like mountains. His eyes shifted back to Sindre.

"Did I wake ya up? My feet felt really big…" Tired from sitting up, he flopped back down, head hitting Sindre's lap. "Hi."

"Hello."

They say like that for a while. Sindre tried his best to not reach out and caress Preben's cheeks that were again covered with white, most likely salty, streaks. Or comb through his hair, massage his skull. He really wanted to…

"You need to stop drinking so much", Sindre told him when he threaded his fingers through the other's hair after all. The response was a grunt.

"It's bad for you and your body. As well as for my house and my night rest", he added. Another grunt.

Sindre sighed and started to massage the drunkard's temples, pressing down softly. His fingers made their way up, towards his crown. Preben let out a satisfied moan.

"Feels good", he said. Sindre hummed.

Another silence fell between them and Sindre listened to the buzz of the cars outside, the children screaming at each other while they ran to school. It was peaceful like this and he wished it could be this way forever. But he knew it never would be.

"You know", Preben said after a while, "I think I should break up with Björn." Sindre didn't say anything, just looked at the man on his lap.

"I have known for a while, I suppose. But… I don't know, it scares me. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to have to start all over again, finding people to hang out with, finding a new house to live in. I don't want to come back after work without anyone waiting in my house. It's lonely.

And it's not like I can't handle being alone. But I'm just so used to coming home, finding Björn or you sitting at the table, cooking dinner, cleaning, reading… It just feels so nice, you know? To know that when you come back, someone will be waiting for you with a smile, someone who will listen to you talk." He sighed and opened his eyes.

Sindre had stilled his movements and looked back. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and his throat felt like sandpaper.

"Yeah", he rasped out and Preben shot him a smile. It was full of sadness. Sindre wanted to kiss that sadness away, make the man feel better.

So he did just that. Pressed his lips to Preben's forehead, trembling with anxiety. With a jolt, Preben shot up as soon as the lips were gone again. His eyes were wide as dining plates and his mouth was slightly agape.

"I… Sorry", Sindre whispered and tried to get up. Preben's strong hands wrapped around his wrist, but Sindre shook himself free.

"I need to… I want-" He choked on the tears that were starting to form in his eyes and then made a beeline for the door, leaving a very confused Preben sitting on the sofa.

* * *

 _What have I done? I should have never… How… Why? It's not like his situation is already complicated enough. And then I show up, grow feelings for him, force myself onto him… Way to go Sindre. Way to go._

He didn't know what to do now. Where to go, who to call. So he walked around town, hiding his tear stained face from the crowds. He tried going to the library and read. But something kept bugging him in his head, and he couldn't focus.

Bars were the same. By now, he had been to every single one together with Preben and Sindre couldn't stand sitting there without the happy drunk. So he left again, after looking around for a few seconds.

In the end, he settled for a park. It wasn't warm out and within minutes he had started to shiver, lack of sleep and proper clothing did such things to you. His hands were buried in his pockets and he played with the key he kept there.

He wanted a smoke. Even though he had quit as soon as he had graduated high school and his life had gotten better, he was now craving the familiar taste of the cigarettes. So he got up again, feeling too restless to sit still for longer than a few minutes, and made his way to the nearest shop that sold his craving.

They asked for his ID. In any other situation, Sindre might have laughed, but now he just felt annoyed. He was not a kid, for god's sake. He needed a smoke. He was surprised by how expensive they had gotten in the few years he had not been smoking.

It was like coming home when he took the first drag. Coming home after a long trip abroad, smelling the smell of your house that is so unmistakably _your_ house. Eating the food you love most from your home country. That feeling. It made Sindre feel a little less tense and worried.

He headed back to the park, now playing with the pack of cigarettes and the lighter in his pockets. One of the long paper sticks still in his mouth, creating a trail of smoke where he walked. He had finished the first one when he arrived at the park. Against his rational mind, he decided to take another one. The taste made him sigh.

Savouring the taste, Sindre closed his eyes and let his thoughts run free. From Preben, to work, from bunnies to tonight's dinner that he still had to buy. He wondered if he should make Preben's favourite to make it up to him. If he was going to go home today.

He opened his eyes again to take another drag, watching the children in the park play. He wondered if they shouldn't be at school. Maybe they were already done?

While watching them, he felt another wave of anxiety wash over him, triggered by the thought of how old he was already becoming. He was heading towards his thirties. Most of his classmates from high school were married, had started families and had remote success in their lives. Meanwhile, Sindre had just been broken up with, had a job that paid too little for the amount of work he had to do and he lived in an apartment that was anything but safe. To top it all off, he had a near stranger living in his house.

Sindre still didn't consider Preben someone he knew. Or a friend. He was a cautious man, very scared of being broken and thrown away again. Even though Heikki had not really treated him bad with the way he broke up with Sindre, but still.

 _I really fail at life. Just like I always have. I couldn't study well, I couldn't do anything right. My grades were never high enough for mother to be proud. Someone else was always better. Sometimes I wish I would just disappear…_

Tears started welling in his eyes again and he choked on the smoke in his mouth. A nasty coughing fit started and he bent over, dropping the cigarette to the ground. His lungs burned and he gripped his chest, wanting to tear out his lungs so the feeling would stop. He was no longer used to cigarettes, Sindre concluded.

When the coughing stopped, he stayed hunched over like that, letting the tears create circles on his trousers. He didn't want to feel this way. So useless, so lonely. Like no one cared about him. Eiríkur never texted him on his own accord. His parents were too busy with themselves these days and rarely called or talked to him. Sindre wanted to disappear.

That was how Preben found him, hours later, when Sindre's fingers had turned numb from the cold and he was shivering all over. The Dane was out of breath and he wrapped his arms around the other as soon as he was close enough.

"I looked everywhere for you. Don't scare me like that again." Sindre just looked back at him with red, puffy eyes.

"Why", he said, voice flat and tired.

"Why? Because I care about you, god damn it. When will you understand that? I don't hate you, I like you. I don't think you're stupid, or useless, or whatever goes around in that pretty head of yours. You are one of the most caring people I know.

Sure, you have troubles expressing your feelings, your thoughts. You think too lowly of yourself and you bottle your troubles up. You let yourself be ruled over too easily and go with the flow to avoid confrontation. But you know, I think you can do much better than that. So, please come back home with me."

Sindre blinked at the man in front of him. Apparently, Preben had been paying more attention to him and how he worked than he had thought. He wasn't mad at him. He didn't think he was an idiot. Huh, who would have thought?

"But… I...-"

"No buts. I don't go looking for you the whole day if I'd hate you and be angry at you, now would I? I don't know why you suddenly ran off, but if it was because of the kiss, then don't worry about it. A little kiss to my forehead isn't going to scare me or anything." He shook his head and grabbed Sindre's hand.

"Really, you worry too much." Of course that was true. Sindre knew it. But he couldn't help it.

"I know", he said and stood up. He lit another cigarette, which earned him a confused look from Preben.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't."

They were silent on their way home. Sindre was letting his thoughts run around again, wondering what had gotten into Preben to search for him. A tiny, extremely bold and hopeful part of him thought that maybe the man harboured some sort of feeling for him too. But it couldn't be.

At the dinner table, Preben brought the subject of Björn and a possible end of the relationship up again.

"Do you think I should do it?", he asked, looking Sindre in the eyes.

"What?", Sindre said, letting his food be for a moment.

"Break up with Björn, I mean."

Well, wasn't that supposed to be up to Preben and Björn? What did it matter what Sindre thought? He was not part of their relationship.

"Up to you, I suppose. It might give you less stress if you do. But it's not something I can decide", Sindre answered, and continued to chew again.

Preben nodded and they went on with their meal. The topic seemed to be closed.

Later at night, when Sindre had Preben had gone to their bedrooms, Sindre laid awake, thinking about the day that had passed. Had he been overreacting again? He was pretty sure that he had. Even if the other had told him that it was okay. He really wanted to apologise to Preben.

Sometimes he didn't understand himself. Well, more than just sometimes. Every time something bad happened, it seemed as if a certain door was unlocked and a nasty monster came free. The monster would whisper in his ear, shoot down his rational thoughts and corrupt them with its own, anxious and scary thoughts.

Thoughts that told him that he was no use. That he was bad, that he didn't matter. The monster would whisper about what the other people might be thinking about him. That woman, standing there and looking at him, she surely thought that he was a lunatic, someone who didn't have the right to be out. She was surely judging his outfit. I told you to not wear blue on green!

In moments like those, Sindre felt as the monster would indeed make him go mad. He wanted to tear his hair out, scream at the monster to shut up. But it never would. It always came back to ruin everything he had. It probably would ruin his relationship with Preben as well. For as far as he had one.

* * *

I am back from my trip to Poland. I visited my friend who studies in Wrocław and I visited her home town, Jelenia Gora.

As you may or may not have noticed, I'm having troubles with the story, because I can't seem to get to the plot. It's all planned out, but the details are killing me and I'm really insecure about whether or not this is okay like this. Oh well...

Thanks for reading!

~Hana


	12. 23-1-2016

The man in the mirror did not smile back at Sindre that morning. He still felt strange after yesterday's events. Preben had not said anything about it at the breakfast table. But Sindre knew that he had been eying him, scared of another outburst.

His reflection grimaced. Of course Sindre would not let something like that happen again. He wasn't a child. He knew he had been overreacting. But it was just… He felt so hopeless. There was no way for him to decide what he should do. Preben was nice company and usually kept the monsters in his head at bay. Yet sometimes he was the reason they were triggered and Sindre just didn't know what to do when such a time rose again.

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Preben about what was bothering him. He just couldn't. He was not the type of person that would share his thoughts with others. Sure, he would tell them that he wasn't alright. That he felt useless and that he wanted to disappear from time to time. But never did he tell them what exactly triggered it, why he felt that way or why that certain song made him cry.

They would laugh at him, he was sure. And if they didn't laugh, they would take advantage of the information.

Sindre stuck his tongue out at the man staring back at him and walked away, grabbing his jacket that was hanging over the chair in the living room.

"I'm heading out!", he shouted to Preben, who was on dishes duty today.

"Have fun", the man responded without looking up from the floral patterned plate in his hands.

Maybe going out would take his mind off things.

* * *

It had been quite a long time since he had gone out with Louise. Before the whole drama with Heikki and Preben, they had met for coffee or just a walk in the park every now and then. Yet these days, it was a little more difficult to arrange something.

His colleague was already waiting for him, hands hidden in the pockets of her coat. Her breath was dancing in front of her mouth, somewhat making her look like a dragon, Sindre thought. He remembered how he used to pretend he was a dragon with his younger brother whenever the temperatures allowed.

"Have you been waiting here for long?", he asked her as he approached. She shook her head and smiled at him.

"No, it's not been too long. But I could go for a nice cup of coffee", she admitted. Sindre nodded and they started heading towards their usual café.

Once inside, a pleasant shudder ran over his body. The warmth was a nice change to the cold of the outside air. Not forgetting about Louise, Sindre took her coat and disappeared towards the cloakroom. Louise was shaking her head at him when he returned, making her braid hop across her back.

"Still the old gentleman as before, I see. Why are you not married yet?"

Sindre managed a wry smile and grabbed the menu.

"I have no clue, really. But I'm not in a hurry. I still have time." Sindre had told her about his preferences, but rarely discussed his love life with her. He just didn't work that way. Neither did their friendship.

If anything, their relationship was slightly odd. They were more than just friends at work, surely more than colleagues. But their friendship did not run that deep that they invited each other to their birthdays or other events in their lives. Perhaps because neither of them were that kind of person.

Louise came from a rich family. Her parents ran a casino and a bar, both businesses had expanded over the years. Sindre remembered that she had told him that she used to play hide and seek with some of the guests at the casino whenever they had lost again. It made him smile.

"So, what have you been up to", she asked as he studied the menu to see if any new exotic coffees had been added.

"Not much. Preben's still temporarily living with me. Though he has been talking about a break up with his love, he still doesn't dare to." Louise nodded, taking in the words.

"Sounds difficult."

"It is", he admitted. ' _Especially since I like him. I have to keep myself from hugging him or kissing him all the time',_ he thought.

The waiter arrived and took their orders. Louise updated him on her life, telling him that she was supposed to be engaged to the son of their rival company's CEO. Something Sindre would never understand. Neither did he understand why Louise had decided to start working for the embassy and gave up her work at the casino. Though, it must be boring to work there were you grew up, Sindre mused.

For some reason, he couldn't feel relaxed all through their little date. He just wanted to go home, sit with Preben and comment on the stupid and secretly enjoyable soaps and series the other watched. So, after lunch, Sindre sent a text to his guest? Housemate? to announce that he was going to come home for dinner after all. He only got an 'okay' back and he felt his mood turn slightly sour.

Once back, he spent an hour or so sulking in his room, hiding his red face from the other. Preben was puzzled by the other's behaviour, but didn't comment on it. Only when Sindre decided to play heavy metal to take his mind off of things, did Preben intervene.

"Okay, grab your coat sweetheart and stop sulking. We're going out." At first, Sindre didn't respond. He just stared at his laptop, watching the puppy chase his tail for the fifth time. After having lived with the Norwegian for a few months, Preben recognised this as a sign that the other was once again being upset over something.

He thought back to the first time he had found Sindre in his room like this, Raubtier blasting through his speakers, cat videos playing on his screen and three bags of gummy bears next to him that was being emptied at an alarming rate. Preben had been clueless at what was going on, so he kept asking what was wrong, until Sindre snapped at him and told him what was bugging him. After that, he didn't talk to the other for two days because he was embarrassed.

Now, Preben had learned that the best thing to do was to get the other out of the house, to somewhere quiet. Eventually, Sindre would then start to talk about what was going wrong or what was bugging him.

"Sindre...", he said sharply, as if speaking to a child. "Don't make me come over there and shut your computer of by force." A glare was shot his way. With a sigh, Preben marched towards the desk and pressed the 'off' button.

"Hey!", Sindre called offended.

"I warned you, didn't I?"

With a pout, Sindre put on his jacket and stormed out of the house, a slightly amused Preben walking behind him.

"Wrong way, love", he called when Sindre turned left instead of right. The other turned around with a quizzical look on his face and Preben waved towards the right with his hand that was holding a bag full of left over bread.

"Come on, they're waiting for us!"

Even though he was curious why Preben was carrying the bag with the slices, his sour mood did not let him ask. Following a few steps behind the taller man, Sindre muttered to himself about what an idiot his guest was and that his Danish stupidity was one day going to rub off on him.

"I'm sure it's not that bad!", Preben said with a laugh as he patted the other on the bag, earning another glare. "Wow, Sindre, you're sending me lots of glares today. Were they on sale or something?", he joked.

He chose to ignore that question and walked on, confused when he realised they were headed to the park.

"Why did you bring our left over bread to the park?", he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"You'll see", Preben told him with a smirk.

And he did see why indeed. Once in the park, the overgrown child skipped to the pond. He called out to the ducks in an attempt to get them to come over. The opposite happened. They only came swimming back when he threw in the first little piece of bread, grinning happily at Sindre.

"You are such a child", Sindre said as he settled on the cold bench.

"Come on, it's fun. Just try it", Preben coaxed, holding out a slice of bread to the other. Sindre promptly tore of a piece and threw it at the other.

"Now who's the child", Preben laughed while throwing a piece back.

After a few minutes, Sindre got tired of the game, sour mood washing over him again. He threw the final pieces of bread into the pond and watched the ducks fight for it, secretly cheering for the all-white one that had been hiding away a little and was now trying to steal one or two scraps.

Soon, Preben joined him, having thrown all of the bread that he had taken with him. Some of the ducks got out of the water, quacking at him.

"Sorry fellas, it's all gone", he told them. It didn't take the ducks long to realise that there was nothing more to find here and they were all alone again.

"So, what's been eating you?", he asked the other. Sindre shrugged and kept his eyes fixed on the waters. He wondered if he'd ever get to ice skate on natural ice again. A poke from Preben pulled him out of that thought again.

"You, because you're annoying", he finally said. The other snorted.

"Sure I am. Like your sour mood isn't."

"If it bothers you, then go away.", he snapped, feeling bitter.

"Why are you always so hard on yourself. I am never bothered with you, you should know that by now." Preben's arm was getting dangerously close to his shoulder as they dangled from the bench.

"If anything, I'm really glad I met you, you know? You've been an awesome drinking buddy, you let me talk to you about pretty much anything, you don't judge me for the stupid things I do and the dumb choices that I make.

You let me crash at your place and never really ask for anything in return. You really are my hero, you see. So, let me save you now. What's up?" He looked over to Sindre, who still refused to meet his eyes and now had prettily flushed cheeks.

"Nothing. Was just thinking about what you said. The thing with Björn and such", he mumbled. His hands were cold and he barely noticed how hard he was pressing his nails into his skin.

Somewhere in his mind, he knew he was just overthinking. He knew that he shouldn't be so insecure about whether Preben liked being around him, whether the Dane thought he was a bother or not. But he couldn't help it. It was just the way Sindre's brain seemed to work.

"I don't know if you want my opinion, or if it's going to help you at all. But I think you should break things off with him. Just because I think it would give you some peace. It might hurt, but that's something you will get over. Right now…" Sindre took a deep breath and looked at Preben.

"Right now, you are letting him rule your world, tell you what to do and keep you on a chain, it seems. You still dream about him, you still cry about him. Because of that one word that describes the bonds between you, it is impossible for you to move on. Because you are in a relationship, you can't meet new people and start over. So, if it's worth something; I say that you should let him go."

During his speech, Preben had pointed his stare towards the ground, his shoulders had slumped. He didn't look at his housemate when he opened his mouth.

"I know. I know Björn still has a lot of influence on me. And it's not like I want it to be that way. It's just… So hard to let go of someone who was there for you when you needed it, who made you feel worthy when everything else made you feel like you were not. It's hard to let go of someone you love."

A hand rested on his and Preben caught the small smile on Sindre's lips.

"I know", he told the Dane. "I know. But there are other people out there who can help you, who can make you feel like you are worthy. Not only feel, but make you realise that you really are."

Sindre bit his lip, fighting the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes. It was painful, to see the man he cared deeply for, so pained by a demon of a person. It was a challenge to not just wrap him in his arms and kiss him, tell him that he was wonderful and that Sindre would love him until the end of days.

"I guess you're right", Preben mumbled, eyes averted again. "Alright. I'll try. I'll go tell him tomorrow that he can go fuck himself and his new little toy." Somewhere among the days after Preben had caught Björn and, as it turned out, his co-worker, Preben had started to call the little blond 'the toy'. It was not a nice thing to do, but it seemed to make things easier for the Dane.

"That's good", Sindre responded, and gave Preben's hand a squeeze.

They stayed outside for a while longer, until Preben was complaining nonstop about the cold. They had talked a bit more and after few jokes and sarcastic comments, Preben even managed to smile some more. Just like Sindre.

When they arrived at the front door, Preben stopped the other with a hand on his shoulder.

"I wanted to say thanks. You know, even though you had your own troubles, you helped me again. I'm not sure if I even was helpful to you…" Sindre just nodded and smiled. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of Preben's phone ringing.

* * *

I apologise for the long wait, I had a lot of things going on in the past few weeks.

~Hana


	13. 23-1-2016 - 31-1-2016

"Preben", he said into the phone once he had pressed the green button. Sindre could hear that the other felt tense.

"Hello Björn. I'm kind of busy, so if this can wait… … No I don't want to meet you now. I can't." His voice sounded so angry, he noted. Nearly spitting out the words.

"I don't want to talk to you. Can't you tell me over the phone?"

A silence fell, the words most likely coming from the other side of the phone. Sindre wondered what it was that Björn told the other. Preben's face was slowly showing more signs of the irritation he felt, eyes closed as he breathed out heavily. He massaged his forehead with his fingers as he sighed again.

"Alright. I get it. You love him, I get it. … You know what, fine. Fine. Break up with me. Go ahead, I don't care. I'll go get my things today when you're at work." Preben's shoulders tensed as he spoke and Sindre noted that the man squeezed his phone abnormally tight. He almost reached out and held it. Almost.

"Yeah, whatever. Bye Björn." Preben pressed the screen with so much force that Sindre feared the screen might crack.

"Well, you heard it. Or at least, half of it", the Dane said with a forced laugh and gestured to the phone. The other nodded.

"Let's go inside", he said softly, now grabbing the hand that was still clinging onto the phone.

They walked into the house in silence. Sindre retrieved two beers and gave one of them to Preben, still in silence. One beer turned into two, two turned to four, until Sindre had lost count and his housemate was a crying mess on the floor.

"Why?", he moaned into the sofa, arms resting on the seating, hiding his head. He sat with his legs crossed, butt nearly on one of the empty beer cans. Sindre remained high and mighty on his sofa, curled into the corner.

Why does it hurt so much, even though that guy is an asshole? Why do I still cry like a baby even though I've known about this for weeks?" Preben looked up, snot hanging from his nose, eyes red and tear streaks on his face. He looked pathetic.

"I don't know", Sindre whispered and reached out a hand to get Preben back on the sofa again.

"I really don't know." The other moved and crawled between Sindre's legs, arms wound around the waist and face now hidden against the Norwegian's stomach.

"He's a poophead and he deserves to step on Legos every day!", he muttered into the fabric. Sindre laughed softly, threading his fingers through the other's hair. Maybe he should not have taken the last few beers…

"Yes he is. And you're drunk." Preben looked up to him, face in a pout.

"Am not. You're drunk." His voice was a little louder than was preferable, but the other decided to let it slip.

"I am not drunk. I'm the king of the couch, kings don't get drunk." Preben scoffed at him.

"Yeah right. You're so drunk."

Their bickering continued, with "Am not" "Are too" flying through the room.

"You totally are drunk off your ass, Preben", Sindre said, poking the other on the forehead.

"And you totally have a nice ass, Sindre."

Both of them froze.

"Eh… I mean." Preben swallowed and tried to find a way to get out of this situation. But his mind was still clouded with alcohol and he couldn't think of any excuse why he had said that.

"I mean you have a pretty ass. No wait! A pretty face. No! I mean, I wanted to say… I want to kiss your face. No! God damn it!" Sindre caught him off guard by doing just that. Kissing him.

It felt good, Preben's drunk mind noticed. Nothing like Björn's kisses, that were always kind of forceful, demanding. This kiss was more subtle, more insecure. Yes, he decided, he liked this kiss. So, he wound his arms around Sindre's shoulders and pulled him closer.

Feeling the other responding positively to the kiss, Sindre let out a little hum as he wrapped his legs around Preben's waist. They kissed for a while. Nothing big, no tongue, no biting, just lips to lips.

Somewhere inside Sindre's mind, a voice told him to "stop, let go of the other, what on earth have you done?", but he didn't care. He just loved the way it felt to kiss the other, the way his skin felt prickly warm when Preben moved his hands down to Sindre's waist. He felt even more intoxicated than he already was and he moved forward a little, just to feel more of the other.

A soft gasp escaped Preben when he felt the other flush against him, but he didn't stop. Instead, he tilted his head a little and tried to deepen the kiss. Something Sindre happily did once he caught on to what the other was doing.

After a few more minutes, caresses and soft nibbling, Preben shifted and gently moved Sindre onto the sofa, hovering above him. He broke their kiss for a moment.

"Is this… Okay?", he asked, looking the other over. Sindre seemed to think for a moment, but then nodded, inviting the other back with open arms.

This time, the kiss was not chaste, not fleeting, but more hungry and somehow relieved. As if they had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

In a way, Sindre had waited for this for weeks. But he had not been ready for the actual moment yet. But who cared when they had pair of Danish hands, that belonged to a very hot man underneath their shirt? Not Sindre.

Within a few minutes, the shirt was gone, his socks came off and his trousers landed somewhere on the ground. Soon followed by Preben's.

"Yep, you totally have a pretty nice ass", Preben noted with a slur in his speech when Sindre had turned around to get rid of his underwear.

The comment hadn't deterred him, he had just returned to the sofa and silenced the other with a kiss. Yes, this was fine. Having sex with a friend? stranger? roommate? that he had not known for that long was totally fine. He would not regret this in the morning.

Oh, how wrong he had been. The first thing Sindre noticed in the morning, was that he was cold. Very cold. Then, he felt that something was stuck between his legs, something that itched terribly. After that, he smelled last night. Cheap beer, sweat and… Sex. And then, the memories returned.

It explained why his back was hurting and why he was sleeping on the sofa. Together with his roommate. Naked. But he wasn't happy about it. Anything but happy. He felt like he had used the other, mislead him. Like he had done something that would get him into jail.

Last night was not one of his proudest moments. He had kissed Preben while they were both drunk. He had slept with him, instead of consoling him and telling him that, "indeed, Björn was a stupid prick" and, "no, don't go back to him, just find a new fling." Not that the other would have listened, but it was the thought that mattered, right?

With a groan, he got up and headed to the shower. Maybe he could get out of the house before Preben would wake up. It would safe him the awkwardness. For now, at least.

While Sindre washed the evidence of last night off his body, Preben woke up with a hangover that just as present as his personality. And the memories of the pervious activities.

He wasn't sure what to think of it. It had been one of the best nights of his life, that was for sure. But whether that was because of Sindre's skill, that strange feeling that he felt ever since he had started crashing at Sindre's place or because of the alcohol, he didn't know. Maybe all of them. Perhaps it was because he felt sorry for himself and he hated Björn right now. He would deal with the reason why later. Now, he needed something to get rid of this headache.

After he had swallowed four aspirins -yes, that's too many, but who cares?-, he made his way to the bathroom. Only then did he hear the shower running. Well, they had already seen each other naked now…

The air from outside the bathroom was cold and Sindre shivered underneath the water when Preben entered.

"Morning", Preben greeted, not caring about the awkwardness of it all.

"Morning…", Sindre said back, insecure. "I'm so-", he started, but Preben cut him off.

"It's fine. We'll talk later about this", he said.

They did not talk about it later. Preben hid in his bedroom and did not come out until Sindre had already eaten his lunch and started on some paperwork that he had to finish before tomorrow. Since tomorrow was Monday again. He sighed and turned the paper around, ready to read over it.

The door to the guest room opened and Preben walked out, pyjama bottoms on and no shirt. His face showed that he had been crying again, but Sindre didn't comment on it. He watched him as Preben walked into the kitchen and started the coffee machine.

"Get me a cup as well, please?", Sindre asked, eyes on the paper again. He didn't get an answer.

But a cup of black liquid was set in front of him a few minutes later, joined by Preben's. The Dane settled onto the other chair, eyes closed and hands folded around his cup.

Neither of them spoke, afraid to start about last night. Perhaps they would never talk about it, Sindre thought as he grabbed his mug.

"I'm sorry for using you", Preben suddenly said and Sindre nearly choked on his drink.

"You didn't-" He didn't get to finish his sentence, because he actually did choke on it and he started coughing.

Preben waited until the coughing fit was over.

"You didn't use me", Sindre said. "If anything, I used you. I was the one who started the kissing." The other nodded, before taking a sip of the coffee.

"True. But I initiated the rest."

"Yes, but I said it was fine, didn't I?" That shut Preben up, because he didn't say anything about it until they had finished their drinks.

"Still. Sorry." Sindre sighed and set down his paper.

"I don't mind. If anything, I had expected you to mind." The Dane shook his head. "Alright then. That's settled, then."

* * *

They didn't bring the situation up again until the next Saturday. They had been drinking again, Preben a few more beers than necessary. Sindre had not wanted to drink as much, so he was less drunk than last week.

"You know, I really liked last week", the Dane started. "You really have a great ass and you kiss awesomely", he told Sindre.

"Hm", the other mused, taking another swig of his beer. " 's that so?", he then asked, poking Preben with his foot when he didn't look up.

"Yeah. You do."

"Want to do it again then?", Sindre asked, leaning forward.

At first, Preben didn't get the hint. His eyes darted from Sindre's eyes to his puckered lips, back to his eyes. You could almost see the gears turning inside the Dane's head.

"Do it… again?", he muttered, and then he caught on. He eagerly pressed his lips against Sindre's, tasting the beer the man had been drinking shortly before.

"See? Totally awesome", Preben said after they broke apart again.

"Hm", was Sindre's response.

Sometime later, after more kisses that had grown longer and longer, they had ended up like the week before. Hot and bothered, ready for something more than just kissing. Although this time, Preben decided that he did not want to do things on the sofa again. He still had a bruise from when he had fallen of the damn thing last week.

"No sofa", he said when Sindre moved to get his shirt off. "Bed." The Norwegian stopped his hands and nodded.

The way to the bedroom was a clumsy one, with the two of them nearly tripping over their own feet, crashing each other into walls for more kisses, more touches. However, sleeping after they were satisfied, was way more comfortable.

It did not, however, help with Sindre's feelings of guilt. Even though they had both agreed to this, he still felt like he was using the other. Preben didn't know that Sindre had been in love with him for a while now. He didn't know that he had longed for this for weeks, if not months.

Thus, he spent the whole Sunday locked in his room, saying that he needed to work. In reality, he was watching videos of cats and little bunnies, reading blog posts about nothing important at all and taking strange quizzes. At the end of the day, Preben managed to coax Sindre out of his room long enough for the two of them to eat dinner together.

But Sindre was not the only one with mixed feelings about the situation. It was true that Preben had just broken up with Björn. It was also true that he was heartbroken. But it was also true that he had a strange, fuzzy feeling in his chest whenever he was kissing Sindre. Or touching Sindre. Or thinking about Sindre.

As if a little candle was burning in the middle of his chest, just underneath his diaphragm. And he hated and loved it at the same time. He really hoped that feeling would go away soon. There was no way that he would let himself get involved with that feeling, the feeling of caring deeply about someone. Not now, not any time soon.

Yet as they both should have realised, they were already involved with that feeling. And there was not much they could or wanted to do about it.


	14. 1-2-2016 - 3-2-2016

It took him three days. Three days of waiting until dinner time, when Sindre would finally get out of his room after he had locked himself in there, after work. Three days of not talking to each other. Preben hated every second of it. He didn't want things to be this way, but he didn't know what he did want them to be like. He was unsure of what he felt.

In those three days, he had talked to Daan about it, but after one and a half day, the Dutchman had grown annoyed with him.

"Preben", he had said, brow twitching with annoyance, "Do I look like a love guru to you?" That had shut the Dane up and he had not spoken about his troubles again.

But today, Sindre had not locked himself inside his room as soon as he had returned from work. Instead, he had cleaned the house and then retreated to the sofa with a book. Maybe today was his chance?

Preben had joined him, a mug of coffee in both hands.

"So…", he started after a few minutes, trying to get Sindre's attention. "Does it bother you?", he asked. Sindre shot him a puzzled look.

"The whole sleeping with each other thing, I mean", Preben elaborated.

The other didn't respond right away. No, the sleeping with each other didn't bother him. It was the feeling that he got afterwards that bothered him.

"No, that's not it", Sindre said after ten minutes. Preben had nearly forgotten about his question. "I'm not bothered by it. But…" He stayed quiet for a while. Unsure of whether he should prod, Preben didn't speak either.

"But it doesn't feel right afterwards", he finished the sentence for Sindre. The Norwegian looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, I know. I just broke up with someone, we haven't even talked about what we're feeling yet, we have not gone on dates. Feels like we're using each other, right?" Sindre just nodded.

Preben sighed and ran his hand through his hair and then over his face.

"I have that feeling too. That I'm using you to forget about Björn. 'What if?' I ask myself. 'What if this is just a rebound? What if he doesn't like this? What if one of us develops feelings for the other?'" Sindre swallowed hard when Preben spoke about feelings.

"But you know, I trust you. I trust that, if you have feelings for me, you will tell me. And the other way round. I'll tell you when I develop feelings for you." Preben didn't want to talk about his feelings. He didn't want to acknowledge them yet.

"But if it bothers you too much, I understand. Then it won't happen again. Although you started it." He laughed nervously and rubbed his neck. Sindre rolled his eyes.

"It's fine. I did start them, so it's alright." It appeared as if Sindre wanted to say more about the situation, but he didn't. Instead, he got up and disappeared into his room again.

Their dinner was less tense that night. They talked a little together, smiled at each other. It was harder for Preben to ignore the fluttering in his chest, especially when Sindre wiped some crumbs from his stubbly chin.

"Sorry", he said afterwards, realising that he had invaded Preben's personal space a little too much.

"It's fine", Preben had stammered, and continued eating.

They spent the night on the sofa, watching some silly programme. Preben laughed a lot, Sindre cracked a few smiles at the screen. His head was comfortably resting against the other's shoulder and Preben grew more and more aware of the heavy weight on his body.

At some point that evening, he couldn't resist anymore and he quickly gave Sindre a kiss to his forehead. Too embarrassed about his action, he then stared at the TV for several minutes and thus missed Sindre's blush. Neither of them mentioned the gesture until it was time for bed.

"I'm not getting a goodnight kiss?" Preben joked when they were done brushing their teeth.

"Hm, maybe." Sindre joined in, walking back to Preben's room.

"I was just joking", he said when Sindre stopped right in front of his chest.

"I wasn't", said Sindre. He craned his neck up a little and gave a soft kiss to Preben's lips.

And once again, Preben's resolve broke. He embraced Sindre, pulled him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. His hand wandered down to grip Sindre's behind, squeezing it softly.

"You make me go mad", Preben whispered into his ear after they broke their kiss for a moment. Sindre moaned softly in response, grasping Preben's shirt.

Their next kiss was deeper, more passionate. Soft caresses of their tongues and Preben was sure that he was going to melt into a puddle of human if they kept doing this. His chest felt hot and his stomach was doing flips. He really didn't want to make things more awkward and tense between them, but when Sindre kissed him like this and clawed at his shirt, nearly begging him, Preben just couldn't resist.

Sindre was in a similar situation. He felt his cheeks burn up, his skin prickling with excitement when Preben's hands rushed downwards, grabbing his hips and ass. He really didn't want to appear desperate, because he wasn't. But Preben just managed to push the right buttons for him and had him hoping, wanting that the other would give him more.

The decision was made by Preben in the end, who scooped Sindre up and carried him to the guestroom, without breaking the kiss once. Sindre landed on the bed with a thud and Preben stripped out of his shirt, throwing it into the room. Sindre licked his lips and moved forward as soon as the other came closer to the bed and reached out to pull Preben closer by his waistband. Hot kisses were placed onto Preben's flat stomach, down towards the zipper.

"God… Sindre..", Preben moaned when the other palmed him through his trousers, grinning wickedly. His hand stopped and disappeared for a short moment, only to return when Sindre pulled down the zip and released Preben from his jeans. They were tugged down and kicked into a corner behind them, followed by his underwear.

"No fair, I want to see your body too." The whispers in his ear send shivers down his spine and Sindre nearly ripped his shirt off. The first skin to skin contact nearly took his breath away.

Their kiss was hard and bruising, biting each other while Sindre shed his clothing, piece after piece. Once they were both naked, their ministrations continued. Preben gently bit down on Sindre's neck, leaving a red mark. His hands wandered down, gripping Sindre's shaft and pumping it a few time. The other moved upwards, looking for more friction while his nails dug into Preben's shoulders.

"Stop… teasing!", Sindre hissed when Preben circled around the slit, smearing precum all over it. The teasing continued, while Preben retrieved the bottle of lube with his free hand and opened it. Sindre whined when the hand disappeared from his cock while Preben spread the lube over his fingers, only to moan loudly when he felt a finger gently entering him.

"More", he begged, moving backwards to fuck himself onto Preben's digit. His pleads were silenced by a bruising kiss as the second finger entered him. Preben carefully stretched him, scissoring and curling inside. Within a few minutes, Sindre was panting and shaking, biting and clawing Preben's skin.

"I said more, damn it!", he said when the other still kept teasing, always just missing his sweet spot. Preben laughed softly and removed his fingers, getting ready for giving the other what he wanted. Once slicked up, he gently pressed inside, hearing the other groan with pleasure.

After a minute or two, Sindre ordered him to get on with him and the settled into a slow rhythm. Sindre's hands were on his back again, scratching his skin until the point that Preben wondered if he was bleeding yet. But the moans and sighs escaping Sindre's mouth urged him to continue on and thus he picked up the pace.

Sindre grew more vocal and Preben let his hands wander around the other's body, gripping his hips and ass, caressing his thighs. His mouth was busy sucking on his neck and biting his collarbone, leaving more marks on the light skin.

"Fuck, Preben-", Sindre groaned, grabbing the other's ass and pulling him closer, needing more friction. He threw his head back when Preben struck his prostate again. His eyes opened wide when Preben grabbed his shaft and started pumping it, working both of them towards an orgasm.

They were all teeth and nails now, biting, scratching and cursing. Nothing soft, just bare lust thrashing them around the sheets. Sindre felt that he was getting closer and let his partner know, who picked up the pace a little more. Preben's lips seemed to be glued to Sindre's skin as he kissed his neck, his chest, his lips and back down his neck again.

"So good, so good", he chanted while he moved inside of Sindre, hot and slick. "So fucking good." Sindre moaned in response, his body tightening with the orgasm washing over him. Preben followed shortly after, before collapsing next to Sindre.

They didn't fall asleep immediately. They cleaned themselves up, washed the other and exchanged more sweet kisses, this time without the whole biting and scratching. Sindre felt drowsy and didn't want to go to his own bed alone, so he pulled Preben along with him.

Once they were curled up in the sheets, Sindre's back pressed against Preben's chest, they relaxed. Just before Sindre fell asleep, he whispered, "I love you", and hoped that the other hadn't heard him. Preben did not sleep a lot that night, instead broke his head over what to do now.

* * *

I apologize for the delay, real life happened. I hope to finish the story before I leave for Norway for three months in three weeks.

To the kind guest that reviewed my chapter: Thank you very much for the kind words, they helped me get my motivation back for this story.

~Hana


	15. 4-2-2016

Sindre hated himself for what he had done. For using Preben again, for telling how he felt. Before the sun had risen, he had woken up and disappeared from Preben's clingy arms, wandered into the city after getting dressed. He was really something.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, elbows resting on the railing of the bridge. This place was where Sindre had been hiding from the other since he had walked out the door. His eyes were puffy and red, most likely. It happens when you cry.

Multiple people had passed him by, no one stopping to talk to him. He should be going home, should be getting ready to leave for work, like all the people that were on the road now. But he didn't want to. Sindre wanted to disappear, wanted to hide.

Maybe he should just jump. Jump down the bridge, into the water that was probably below ten degrees Celsius. He wasn't worth it. So why did he hope that Preben would come looking for him? Why did he hope that Preben would come running, out of breath and tell him to "Stop, don't jump, come back with me."? Why did he want Preben to tell him that he loved him?

It wouldn't happen. Preben didn't love him, just saw him as a replacement for Björn. Sindre was nothing to him. To anyone. Maybe to his brother, but no one else. He should just disappear.

His gaze flicked to the vastness of the waters below him and he wondered how many people had stood here before, how many had actually jumped and found their salvation in those waters.

"Young man?" The voice sounded old, worried. Sindre turned around and saw an old lady standing on the bridge, walking stick in her hand.

"Are you alright," she asked. He nodded. "Don't do something reckless, please," she said. Sindre shook his head, then turned to stare at the water again. The lady walked on.

The sun moved higher in the sky, warmed up the things around him. More and more cars drove past as the rush hour started, bikers and pedestrians crossed his path. No one paid attention to him. Sindre wondered if Preben had woken up yet. Whether he would think that he was at work.

A voice asked him whether he should have brought his phone. He shook his head, hair dancing around. No, that would only be bothersome. He didn't need that thing, didn't need to talk to anyone. He was fine, he didn't need help. He was only a nuisance to them anyway.

More minutes passed and at some point, a young mother stopped beside him. She asked him some questions, why he was standing there ("I'm just thinking"), whether he was alright ("Yes"), if he needed help ("No"), whether he wanted her to call someone he knew ("No" again). She gave up eventually, her child tugging on her hand. He didn't even have the energy to smile at the child when it looked at him. The smile it had flashed him disappeared.

"Let's go mummy, he looks sad," the child had said and the woman had taken off after pressing her hand onto his shoulder and telling him it would be alright.

He had scoffed at that when she had been gone. Sure, everything would be alright. But not right now. That didn't solve his troubles now. What did she even know?

Rush hour went by and the road quieted down. No more screaming children, no more honking cars. He must have been standing there for three hours, at least. He was cold now, fingers shaking, teeth clattering. His lips might be blue.

He heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. Sindre hoped he is right this time when he thinks that this is Preben, that the man has finally realised that he has not gone to work. He wondered how long Preben might have been looking for him.

"Thank god I finally found you," Sindre heard and he almost turned around. Almost. Instead, he turned his head the other way, not wanting to show Preben the tears that have been forming in his eyes.

"Why did you leave," Preben asked, a hand coming to rest on the railing next to Sindre. He shrugged.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," the Dane admitted. Sindre shrugged again. Then, he found himself locked in a tight embrace, pressed against a broad chest while hearing a heart that was racing. For a moment, Sindre indulged himself and though that maybe, Preben had indeed been worried about him and loved him back. That feeling stopped when the hug was broken and Preben just looked at him, eyes wide and mouth in a thin line.

"God, never do that again," he told Sindre. "I was so worried. Thought you had gone to work, but you left everything at home. So I figured you must have walked around town." Sindre had wondered how Preben had ended up here. How he found him. He wanted to ask, but he didn't. Instead, he gave in, buried his face in Preben's chest.

His breath was shaking and the tears were probably staining Preben's shirt. He didn't care. He didn't want to care. He wanted to curl up, hide, and let Preben kiss him like the man is doing now. His lips are gentle against the top of his head, the words he whispers are soothing.

"For a moment I thought you were going to jump", Preben murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind Sindre's ear. Sindre just hummed, a sound that could be seen as agreeing or disagreeing.

"Honestly," the Dane sighed when he tugged on Sindre's hand, trying to get him to move. "You're such a hand full. First, you tell me that you feel guilty about sleeping with me. Then you promise me you'll tell me if you have feelings. Then you sleep with me again, and when you think I'm asleep, you confess your love. How is that fair?"

Sindre stopped moving and stared at the man in front of him, eyes wide and blush on his cheeks.  
"You heard that?" he breathed. Preben nodded and turned around.

"Yeah, I did."

They just stood there, Sindre avoiding Preben's gaze and Preben trying to get Sindre to look at him. It was Sindre who spoke first, when his heart stopped hammering.

"I didn't – I mean.. – It wasn't." He took a deep breath and uncurled his fists. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he said softly.

Preben shifted and walked over, taking Sindre's hands in his.

"I'm glad I did, though," he said. Sindre's eyes darted up and met his. "I mean it. It made me happy to hear that."

"And I think I love you, too. I'm not sure yet. Which is not that strange, seeing I just broke up not too long ago. But I've been living in your house for a while now and I haven't seen my ex in a long time and I just…" Preben squeezed Sindre's hands as he tried to steady his voice.

"I just feel so safe with you. Even though I hardly know you. But I just love the feeling I get when I'm around you, when you talk to me. It's like I'm getting warmer on the inside and I feel like I can take on the world."

Sindre smiled at that stupid declaration, because it's impossible for someone to do that.

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh at me. I'm an idiot, alright," Preben joked, pulling Sindre along to start walking again.

"But you know, I'm willing to work on me. And you. Because we're not perfect. We're not that in one piece either. We're broken and all over the place because of what others did to us."

His smile froze on his face and Sindre felt as if someone was clutching his heart and pressing their nails into it. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to remember.

"We'll be okay, though. If we try. If you allow me to try," Preben continued, his eyes locking with Sindre's.

"Because I really want to be around you longer than just today and tomorrow, if you let me." They stopped again and Sindre thought his heart might leap out of his chest, like he had seen in cartoons when he was young.

Preben looked at him hopefully, unsure smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"So?", he asked. Sindre didn't know what to say. His tongue seemed glued inside his mouth, unable to move. So he kissed Preben instead. The hands that settled on his waist feel so good right now, so safe. He never wants them to disappear. But the thought scared him and he nearly pulled away.

"Thank you," Preben sighed into the kiss as he pulled the other closer, against his chest. A car honked in the distance and a bike rattled by. Sindre didn't care. This was his moment, his love, his feelings. And he would not let anyone ruin it.

* * *

Later, when he finally saved up enough to move out of the town that holds too many bad and a lot of good memories, Preben follows him. And he follows him again, when Sindre moves to Norway. They don't own big houses or grand cars. They can afford a vacation to Denmark once a year and eat out whenever their anniversary or a birthday is to be celebrated.

They don't have much, but they have each other. Sometimes they still show signs that they are not fully healed. Sometimes they fall down again. But the other is always there to console them, to try and help put the pieces back in place, to try and glue them there.

No amount of time will fully erase the harm done, but time can make the hurting less. The kisses they share will not erase their problems. But the knowledge that the burden is carried together, makes things a little easier.

~End~

* * *

Thank you for reading until the end.

~Hana


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